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1814- 


From a painting by Meissonier. 


The Historical Romances 
of Louisa Miihlbach 


Brandenburg Edition 
Limited to One Thousand Sets 






•use. ”5 i (rt>6 




7165 


Copyright, 1867, 1898, 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 


Copyright, 1898, 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 


INTRODUCTION" 


Napoleon had ordered the Emperor of Austria and the 
King of Prussia to send him auxiliary troops for his war 
against Russia, and they had obeyed him, as had the many 
minor German princes who had gathered once more around 
him, at Dresden, to testify to their vassalage with revolting 
obsequiousness. Germany’s rulers still were Napoleon’s obe- 
dient servants ; only her people were recovering from his vic- 
tories, longing to throw off the yoke, and it was not one of 
her princes who took the first step that led to regained liberty. 
Napoleon crossed the Niemen on June 24th, with his “ Grande 
Armee ” of five hundred thousand men, and won the battles 
of Smolensk (August 17th) and the Moskowa (September 7th). 
Seven days later he entered Moscow, apparently the conqueror, 
but already convinced inwardly of the utter failure of this his 
latest and greatest campaign. Burning Moscow (September 
15th-20th) marked the turning point of his career, and the 
retreat was begun on October 15th, to turn into a disastrous 
rout before the cold of the Russian winter and the Czar’s 
Cossacks alike. Napoleon left his army on December 5th, and 
reached Paris ten days later, where he set to work at once to 
raise a new army. 

His defeat had been the signal for which all the German 
peoples had been waiting. But their rulers still restrained 
them. The King of Prussia still hesitated, of course. But 
General York, the commander of the twenty thousand men 
he had been forced to contribute to Napoleon’s army, con- 
cluded a treaty of neutrality with the Russians, and sent out a 
call to arms to the Prussian people. The response was over- 
whelming : the king listened at last to his advisers, and de- 
clared war on March 1G, 1813. Napoleon, who had taken the 
command of his new forces on April 15th, defeated the Prussian- 
Russian army at Liitzen (May 2d) and at Bautzen (May 21st). 


IV 


NAPOLEON AND BLliUHER. 


The condition of his troops, however, and political considera- 
tions, led him to conclude an armistice, but, the peace condi- 
tions of the allies being too severe, the war was renewed in 
August, Austria joining the coalition of Russia, Prussia, 
Sweden, and England against him. Napoleon won a brilliant 
victory at Dresden on August 26th-27th, but Bliicher defeated 
at the same time General Macdonald at the Katzbach, while 
three days earlier the Crown Prince of Sweden had defeated 
Oudinot at Grossbeeren ; the battle of Culm was equally dis- 
astrous for the French arms; and Ney was defeated at Denne- 
witz on September 6th. This succession of blows undoubtedly 
affected Napoleon’s mind. He spent nearly a month in dis- 
astrous inactivity at Dresden, then was forced by Bliicher to 
leave that city and take up a position near Leipsic, where, on 
October 16th-19th, was struck the great blow that sealed his 
fate. Utterly routed, he retreated to the Rhine, and even 
his stanchest ally, the King of Bavaria, deserted him. Jerome 
Bonaparte fled from his kingdom of Westphalia, the Federa- 
tion of the Rhine was dissolved, but the popular character of 
the rising gave thought to the Russian and Austrian emperors, 
to Metternich, and to all the monarchical allies : this seemed to 
them a spirit akin to that of the French Revolution, dangerous 
to the divine right of kings. Therefore favorable proposals 
of peace were made to Napoleon, which he, however, blinded 
by the gods, refused. Bliicher’s urgent advice for the in- 
vasion of France was finally followed on January 1, 1814, and 
the march on Paris begun. 

The popular hero of Germany’s war of liberation, Gebhard 
Leberecht von Bliicher, was born at Rostock, in Mecklenburg, 
on December 16, 1742. His education was thoroughly neglect- 
ed by his father, an old cavalry officer, and he had learned but 
little except riding, when, together with his brother, he took 
service in a Swedish cavalry regiment, in 1756. Captured by 
the Prussians four years later, young Bliicher entered the 
service of Frederick the Great, and rapidly rose in rank. He 
distinguished himself repeatedly, but in 1772 sent in his resig- 
nation because his commander had shown favoritism in the 
matter of advancement. Frederick the Great’s answer was, 
“ Captain von Bliicher is under arrest until he has changed 
his mind ” ; but after nine months he was forced to give in 
and discharged the obstinate officer with the words, “ Captain 
von Bliicher is herewith discharged, and can go to the devil ! ” 
Bliicher married, bought an estate in Pomerania, and became a 
model landlord. Frederick William II. called him back to the 


NAPOLEON AND BLITCHER 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


CHAPTEB I. 

FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 

It was a fine, warm day in May, 1812. The world was 
groaning under the yoke of Napoleon’s tyranny. As a con- 
solation for the hopeless year, came the laughing spring. 
Fields, forests, and meadows, were clad in beautiful verdure; 
flowers were blooming, and birds were singing everywhere — 
even at Charlottenburg, which King Frederick William 
formerly delighted, to call his “pleasure palace,” but which 
now was his house of mourning. At Charlottenburg, Fred- 
erick William had spent many and happy spring days with 
Queen Louisa ; and when she was with him at this country- 
seat, it was indeed a pleasure palace. 

The noble and beautiful queen was also now at Charlotten- 
burg, but the king only felt her presence — he beheld her no 
more. Her merry remarks and charming laughter had ceased, 
as also her sighs and suffering; her radiant eyes had closed 
forever, and her sweet lips spoke no more. She was still at 
Charlottenburg, but only as a corpse. The king had her 
mausoleum erected in the middle of the garden. Here lay 
her coffin, and room had been left for another, as Frederick 
William intended to repose one day at the side of his Louisa. 

From the time that the queen’s remains had been deposited 
there — from that day of anguish and tears — the king called 
Charlottenburg no longer his “pleasure palace.” It was 
henceforth a tomb, where his happiness and love were buried. 
Still, he liked to remain there, for it seemed to him as though 
he felt the presence of the spirit of his blessed queen, and 


2 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


understood better what she whispered to his soul in the silent 
nights when she consoled him, and spoke of heaven and a re- 
newed love. The bereaved husband, however, did not prefer 
to dwell in the magnificent abode of his ancestors, where he 
had formerly passed in spring so many happy days with his 
beloved Louisa. He had, therefore, a small house near the 
palace ; it was into this plain and humble structure that he 
had retired with his grief-stricken heart. Here, in his soli- 
tude, he had already passed two springs. 

The second year had nearly elapsed since the queen’s death, 
and Frederick William’s heart was still overburdened with 
sorrow, but yet he had learned whay time teaches all mortals 
— he had learned to be resigned. /Yes, resignation in these 
melancholy days was the only thing that remained to the un- 
fortunate King of Prussia. It was a sad and difficult duty, 
for he had lost happiness, love, greatness, and even his royal 
independence. It is true, he was still called King of Prussia, 
but he was powerless. He had to bow to the despotic will of 
Napoleon, and scarcely a shadow of his former greatness had 
been left him. The days of Tilsit had not yet brought dis- 
grace and humiliation enough upon him. The Emperor of 
the French had added fresh exactions, and his arrogance be- 
came daily more reckless and intolerable. In the face of such 
demands it only remained for Frederick William to submit or 
resist. He looked mournfully at his unhappy country; at 
those whom the last war had deprived of their husbands and 
fathers ; at his small army ; at the scanty means at his dis- 
posal, compared with the resources of Napoleon, and — the 
king submitted. 

He had indeed hesitated long, and struggled strongly with 
his own feelings. For, by submitting to Napoleon’s behests, 
he was to become the open enemy of the Emperor Alexander, 
and the King of Prussia was, jointly with the Emperor of the 
French, to arm against the Emperor of Russia. It was a 
terrible necessity for Frederick William to sacrifice his friend 
to his enemy, and at the very moment when Alexander had 
offered his hand for a new league, and proposed to conclude 
an offensive and defensive alliance with Prussia and England. 

But such an alliance with distant Russia could not strengthen 
Prussia against neighboring France, whose armies were en- 
camped near her frontiers. The danger of being crushed by 
Napoleon was much more probable than the hope of being 
supported by Russia. Russia had enough to do to take care 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


of herself. She was unable to prevent France from destroying 
Prussia, if Napoleon desired, and the crown might fall from 
the head of Frederick William long before a Russian army of 
succor could cross the Prussian frontier. He submitted there- 
fore, and accepted with one hand the alliance of France, while 
threatening her with the other. 

On the 24th of February, 1812, the Prussian king signed 
this new treaty. As was stipulated by the first article, he 
entered into a defensive alliance with France against any 
European power with which either France or Prussia should 
hereafter be at war. Napoleon, the man who bad broken 
Queen Louisa’s heart, was now the friend and ally of King 
Frederick William, and the enemies of France were hence- 
forth to be the enemies of Prussia! 

It was this that the king thought of to-day, when, in the 
early part of May, he was alone, and absorbed in his reflec- 
tions, at his small house in Charlottenburg. It was yet early, 
for he had risen before sunrise, and had been at work a long 
time, when he ceased for a moment and yielded to his medita- 
tions. Leaning back in his easy chair, he gazed musingly 
through the open glass-doors, now on serene sky, and again on 
the fragrant verdure of his garden. 

But this quiet relaxation was not to last long; the door of 
the small anteroom opened, and the footman announced that 
his excellency Minister and Chancellor von Hardenberg re- 
quested to see his majesty. 

“Let him come in,” said the king, as he rose, turning his 
grave eyes, which had become even gloomier than before, 
toward the door, on the threshold of which the elegant and 
somewhat corpulent form of the chancellor of state appeared. 
He bowed respectfully. His noble and prepossessing counte- 
nance was smiling and genial as usual; the king’s, grave, 
thoughtful, and sad. 

“Bad news, I suppose?” asked the king, briefly. “You 
come at so early an hour, something extraordinary must have 
happened. W^hat is it?” 

“Nothing of that kind, your majesty,” said Hardenberg, 
with his imperturbable smile. “ Yet, it is true, we are con- 
stantly in an extraordinary situation, so that what otherwise 
might appear unusual is now nothing but a very ordinary 
occurrence.” 

“A preamble!” said Frederick William, thoughtfully. 
“ You have, then, to tell me something important. What is 


4 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


it? Take a seat and speak!” The king pointed to a chair, 
and resumed his own. Hardenberg seated himself, and looked 
down for a moment with an air of embarrassment. 

“ Any thing the matter in Berlin?” asked the king. “ Per- 
haps, a quarrel between the citizens and the French?” 

“No, your majesty,” said Hardenberg, to whose thin lips 
came his wonted smile. “ The people of Berlin keep very 
quiet, and bear the arrogance of the French with admirable 
patience. I have to report no quarrels, and, on the whole, 
nothing of importance ; I wished only to infom your majesty 
that I received a courier from Dresden late last night.” 

The king started, and looked gloomy. “From whom?” he 
asked, in a hollow voice. 

“From our ambassador,” replied Hardenberg, carelessly. 
“ Suprising intelligence has reached Dresden. They are ex- 
pecting the Emperor Napoleon. He left Saint Cloud with 
the Empress Maria Louisa on the 9th of May, and no one 
knew any thing about the object or destination of the jour- 
ney. It was generally believed that the emperor, with his 
consort, intended to take a pleasure-trip to Mentz, but im- 
mediately after his arrival there he informed his suite that he 
was on his way to a new war, and would accompany his wife 
only as far as Dresden, where they would meet their Austrian 
majesties. Couriers were sent from Mentz to Vienna, to 
Dresden, to King Jerome, and to all the marshals and gen- 
erals. The columns of the army have commenced moving 
everywhere, and are now marching from all sides upon Dres- 
den. As usual, Napoleon has again succeeded in keeping his 
plans secret to the very last moment, and informing the world 
of his intentions only when they are about to be realized.” 

“ Yes,” exclaimed the king, in a tone of intense hatred and 
anger — “yes, he wears a kind, hypocritical mask, and feigns 
friendship and pacific intentions until he has drawn into his 
nets those whom he intends to ruin ; then he drops his mask 
and shows his true arrogant and ambitious face. He caressed 
us, and protested his friendship, until we signed the treaty of 
alliance, but now he will insist on the fulfilment of the en- 
gagements we have entered into. He commences a new war, 
and, by virtue of the first article of our treaty, I have to fur- 
nish him an auxiliary corps of twenty thousand men and sixty 
field-pieces.” 

“ Yes, your majesty, it is so,” said Hardenberg, composedly. 
“ The new French governor of Berlin, General Durutte, came 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


5 


to see me this morning, and demanded in the name of his 
emperor that the Prussian auxiliary troops should immediately 
take the field.” 

“Auxiliary troops!” exclaimed the king, angrily. “The 
Prussian victims, he ought to have said, for what else will my 
poor, unfortunate soliders he but the doomed victims of his 
ambition and insatiable thirst for conquest? He will drive 
them into the jaws of death, that they may gain a piece of 
blood-stained land, or a new title from the ruin of the world’s 
happiness ; he does not care whether brave soldiers die or not, 
so long as his own ambition is served.” 

“Yes,” said Hardenberg, solemnly, “his path leads across 
corpses and through rivers of blood, but the vengeance of God 
and man will finally overtake him, and who knows whether it 
may not do so during this wild Russian campaign?” 

“My evil forebodings, then, are proving true,” said the 
king, sighing; “the expedition is directed against Russia?” 

“Yes, against Russia,” said Hardenberg, sneeringly; “the 
master of the world intends to crush Russia also, because she 
ventured to remain an independent power, and the Emperor 
Alexander was so bold as to demand the fulfilment of the 
promises of Tilsit and Erfurt. Providence is always just in 
the final result, your majesty. It punishes the Emperor 
Alexander for suffering himself to be beguiled by the flatteries 
and promises of Napoleon, and the territories which he allowed 
Napoleon to give him at Tilsit, at the expense of Prussia, will 
be no precious stones in his crown.” 

“Not a word against Alexander!” exclaimed the king, im- 
periously. “ However appearances may be against him, he 
has always proved a true friend of mine, and perhaps especially 
at a time when we suspected it the least. His keen eyes pene- 
trated the future, and behind the clouds darkening 'our 
horizon he believed he could descry light and safety. He 
yielded, in order to lull Napoleon to sleep; he pretended to 
be fascinated, in order to convince him of his attachment and 
devotedness. He wished to be regarded as Napoleon’s friend 
until he had armed himself, and felt strong enough to turn 
against the usurper. Hush ! do not contradict me. I have 
heard all this from Alexander’s own lips. On his return 
from Erfurt he confided the plans of his future to me and the 
queen, under the seal of secrecy. Louisa carried the secret into 
her grave, and I have preserved it in my breast. Now T may 
communicate it to you, for the hour of decision has come; 


6 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


it finds me on the side of France, and God has decreed that I 
should turn my arms against my friend, against Alexander ! 
Ah, happy the queen, because she did not live to see this day 
and witness my new humiliation and disgrace ! And was it, 
then, unavoidable? Was it, then, really necessary for me to 
enter into this hateful alliance? Was there no way of avoid- 
ing it?” 

And as the king put this question to himself rather than 
to Hardenberg, he laid his head against the back of his easy- 
chair, and looked gloomy and thoughtful. 

“There was no way, unfortunately, of avoiding it,” said 
Hardenberg, after a short pause. “ Your majesty knows full 
well that we submitted to stern necessity only; to act other- 
wise would have been too dangerous, for the crown on the 
head of your majesty would have been menaced.” 

“ It is better to lose the crown and die a freeman than live 
a crowned slave!” exclaimed the king, impetuously. 

“No, pardon me, your majesty, for daring to contradict 
you,” said Hardenberg, smiling; “it is better to keep the 
crown, and submit to necessity as long as possible, in order to 
be able to take future revenge on the oppressor. At times I 
am likewise tortured by the doubts and fears now disquieting 
the noble soul of your majesty. But at such hours I always 
repeat to myself, in order to justify our course, a few words 
from the letter which the Duke de Bassano addressed to our 
ambassador, Baron von Krusemark, as the ultimatum of the 
Tuileries. I have learned this letter by heart, and, if you 
will graciously permit me, I will repeat a few words.” The 
king nodded assent, and Hardenberg added: “This letter 
read: ‘My dear baron, the moment has come when we must 
give you our views about the fate of Prussia. I cannot con- 
ceal from you that this is a matter of life and death for 
your country. You know that the emperor entertained al- 
ready at Tilsit very unfriendy intentions against Prussia. 
These intentions still remain the same, but will not be carried 
out at this time, on the condition that Prussia become our 
ally, and a faithful one. The moments are precious, and the 
circumstances very grave . 5 ” * 

“ An outrageous letter !” muttered Frederick Willliam to 
himself. 

“ Yes, an outrageous letter,” repeated Hardenberg, bowing, 
“ for it contained a serious threat, and yet, on the other hand, 

*“Memoires d’un Homme d’fitat,” vol. xi., p. 324 


INTRODUCTION. 


V 


army in 1787, and he rendered good service during the war 
with France in 1793. He served throughout the years that 
followed, and in 1806 commanded the cavalry charge at Auer- 
stadt. He was captured finally in November of that year, but 
exchanged early in February, 1807. After the Peace of Tilsit 
he worked enthusiastically in the war department in Konigs- 
berg and Berlin for the reorganization of the army, and was 
made commander-in-chief of Pomerania. His blind hatred 
of the French, however, which bordered on insanity, rendered 
his resignation imperative. He retired to Breslau in 1812, 
but continued to aid Scharnhorst secretly to prepare for the 
day of liberation. 

At the outbreak of the war there was much opposition to 
his appointment to a command : he was “ too old, too rash.” 
However, he was put at the head of the Silesian army corps, 
and showed his military gifts at the Katzbach, Leipsic, La 
Rothi^re, and Laon, where he defeated Napoleon himself. 
His name of “ Marshal Forward ” he received first of all from 
his Russian troops ; its felicity was at once recognized by the 
German soldiers, and the name became popular. Bliicher 
was made Prince of Wahlstadt by the King of Prussia— a 
dignity that was made hereditary in 1861. In the final 
campaign against the French emperor he lost the battle 
of Ligny, but managed to reach the field of Waterloo in 
time to render secure the victory that finally sealed the fate 
of Napoleon. 

Bliicher’s personality is sketched by the author with all 
her usual fidelity to historical truth. He was a man of little 
education, yet a good speaker and endowed by Nature with 
great delicacy of feeling and perception. To the German’s 
poetic respect for woman he joined the German’s love of 
country : it is not alone his military triumphs, which far out- 
weighed his defeats, that made Bliicher the national hero he 
was & and is. It is far more his personality, the fact that he 
was the incarnation of his race in all its virtues and foibles, 
that gave him immortal fame. Louisa Miihlbach, therefore, 
has complemented the picture of the dashing commander 
with a sketch of the Prussian nobleman ; as is her wont, she 
makes the hero more easily understood by showing us the 
man. 






CONTENTS. 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


CHAPTER PACE 


I. 

Frederick William and Hardenberg, 

1 

II. 

The White Lady, 

. 16 

III. 

Napoleon and the White Lady, .... 

24 

IV. 

Napoleon at Dresden, 

. 40 

V. 

Napoleon’s High-born Ancestors, 

49 

VI. 

Napoleon’s Departure from Dresden, 

. 57 


THE LAST DAYS OF 1812. 


VII. 

The Conspirators of Helgoland, .... 

67 

VIII. 

The European Conspiracy, .... 

. 74 

IX. 

Gebhard Leberecht Blucher, .... 

84 

X. 

Recollections of Mecklenburg, 

. 94 

XI. 

Glad Tidings, 

. 105 

XII. 

The Oath, 

. 116 


CHANCELLOR VON HARDENBERG. 

XIII. The Interrupted Supper, 125 

XIV. The Defection of General York, 132 

XV. The Warning, 141 

XVI. The Diplomatist, 147 

XVII. The Clairvoyante, 160 

XVIII. An Adventuress, . 166 


XIX. The Two Diplomatists, 183 

XX. The Attack, 195 

XXI. The Courier’s Return, 206 

vii 


CONTENTS. 


vm 


THE VOLUNTEERS. 


CHAPTER 

XXII. 

The Manifesto, .... 


PAGE 

XXIII. 

Leonora Prohaska, 

. . 

. 222 

XXIV. 

Joan of Orleans, .... 

. 

. 229 

XXV. 

The National Representatives, . 

. 

. 242 


WAR AND AN ARMISTICE. 


XXVI. 

Theodore Korner, 

257 

XXVII. 

The Heroic Tailor, 

. 267 

XXVIII. 

The General-in-Chief of the Silesian Army, 

275 

XXIX. 

The Ball at the City Hall of Breslau, 

. 282 

XXX. 

The Appointment, 

293 

XXXI. 

After the Battle of Bautzen, .... 

. 300 

XXXII. 

Bad News, 

308 

XXXIII. 

The Traitors, 

. 318 

XXXIV. 

Napoleon and Metternich, 

, 324 


DELIVERANCE OF GERMANY. 

XXXV. On the Katzbach, 333 

XXXVI. Blucher as a Writer, 339 

XXXVII. The Revolt of the Generals, 345 

XXXVIII. The Battle of Leipsic, 354 

XXXIX. The Nineteenth of October, 364 


HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS. 


XL. 

Blucher’s Birthday, 

. 382 

XLI. 

Passage of the Rhine, 

. 389 

XLII. 

Napoleon’s New-Year’s-Day, 

. 399 

XLIII. 

The King of Rome, . 

. 408 

XLIV. 

Josephine, .... 

. 417 

XLV. 

Talleyrand, . . . . 

. 423 

XL VI. 

Madame Letitia, . 

. 434 


CONTENTS. 


ix 


CHAPTER 

XL VII. 
XL VIII. 
XLIX. 
L. 
LI. 
LII. 
LIII. 
LIV. 


FALL OF PARIS. 

The Battle of La Rothiere, 

The Diseased Eyes, 

On to Paris! 

Departure of Maria Louisa, 

The Capitulation of Paris, 

Night and Morning near Paris, 
Napoleon at Fontainebleau, 

A Soul in Purgatory, , 


PAGE 

447 

455 

469 

476 

482 

487 

493 

499 









.* 

























FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


7 


it offered us a sort of guaranty. Prussia was lost, in case she 
refused to join the alliance, for Austria had likewise acceded 
to it, and, by holding out against the wishes of France, Prussia 
would have run the risk of being crushed by two armed ene- 
mies in the north, as well as in the south, and blotted out 
from the list of nations. We, therefore, were obliged to sub- 
mit; we had no other choice.” 

“But what did we gain by submitting?” asked the king, 
angrily. “ In order to preserve my people from the horrors of 
war, I bowed to Napoleon’s will, and accepted the disgraceful 
alliance. I thereby wished to secure peace to my unfortunate 
country, which stands so greatly in need of it. Instead of 
attaining this object, the alliance plunges us into the very 
abyss which I intended x to avoid, and I am compelled to send 
my soldiers into the field for an unjust cause against a mon- 
arch who is my friend, and under the orders of a commander- 
in-chief who is my enemy, and has always shown his bitter 
hostility to me.” 

“ But your majesty has at least prevented your own country 
from being devastated by war. It is true, you send out your 
army, but the war will not lay waste the fields of Prussia; it 
will not trample in the dust the crops of the Prussian farmer, 
interrupt the labors of the mechanic, or carry its terror into 
our cities and villages, our houses and families. The enemy 
is at least far from our own country.” 

“You only wish to palliate the calamity,” exclaimed the 
king. “ The enemy is here, and you know it. He is dog- 
ging every step of ours; he is listening to every word of mine, 
and watching every movement. An inconsiderate word, an 
imprudent step, and the French gendarmes will rush upon me 
and conduct the King of Prussia as a prisoner to France, 
while no one can raise his hand to prevent them. We have 
the enemy in Berlin, in Spandau , and in all our fortresses. 
Our own soldiers we have to send into the field, and our cities 
and fortresses are occupied by French garrisons. An army 
of four hundred and eighty thousand infantry and seventy 
thousand cavalry cover Prussia like a cloud of locusts ; Ber- 
lin, Spandau, Konigsberg, and Pillau, have received French 
garrisons; only Upper Silesia, Colberg, and Graudenz, have 
remained exempt from them. The whole country, as though 
we were at war, is exposed to the robberies, extortions, and 
cruelties in which an enemy indulges: this time, however, he 
comes in the garb of a friend ; and, as our ally, he is irritating 


8 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


and impoverishing the farmers, and plundering the mechanics 
and manufacturers. And I am not only obliged to suffer all 
this in silence, but I must send my own soldiers, the natural 
defenders of our states, into a foreign country, and command 
them to obey the man who has heaped the vilest insults not 
only on myself, but on the whole of Prussia, and has broken 
the heart of my beloved wife!” And the king, quite ex- 
hausted, breathless with his unusually long speech, and almost 
ashamed of his own tremulous excitement, buried his face in 
his hands and groaned aloud. 

Hardenberg gazed upon him for a moment with an expression 
of profound sympathy ; he then looked around the room with 
searching glances, which seemed to pierce every niche, every 
fold of the curtains, and every piece of furniture and sculpture. 
“ Is your majesty sure that no one can hear and watch us 
here?” he asked in a low voice. 

The king dropped his hands from his face, and looked at 
him in surprise. 

“Your majesty, you yourself say that you are surrounded 
by spies, and eavesdroppers,” added Hardenberg. “ Does your 
majesty suspect any such to be here?” 

“No,” said the king, with a mournful smile, “it is the last 
blessing of my Louisa that she has secured me this quiet 
asylum. The spies do not venture to penetrate here — this 
retreat is not desecrated by their inquisitive and lurking 
glances.” 

“Well,” said Hardenberg, almost joyously, “if we need not 
be afraid of the eyes and ears of spies, your majesty will per- 
mit me to speak freely to you. My king, great events are 
maturing; while impenetrable darkness still seems to sur- 
round us, morning is gradually dawning, and the day of 
retribution is not distant. Europe is utterly tired of war, 
and this incessant bloodshed ; she has practised forbearance 
until it is exhausted and converted into an intense indigna- 
tion. Thanks to his unscrupulous machinations, Napoleon 
has hitherto succeeded in bringing about wars between the 
different nations of Europe in order to derive benefits for 
France alone from these fratricidal struggles. It was he who 
drove the Poles and Turks into a war against the Russians, 
the Italians against the Austrians, the Danes against the 
Swedes and English, and armed the princes of the Rhenish 
Confederation against their German countrymen and brethren. 
He instigated all against each other; he made them continue 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


9 


the struggle until they sank from loss of blood, for he knew 
that he would then be able to take the property of those 
whom he had made murder each other. And who could pre- 
vent him? The warriors, exhausted by their long and 
bloody work — the starving people, to whom, in their hunger 
and anguish, only he who brought them peace and a little 
bread seemed a true friend ! Italy wished to deliver herself 
from the Austrian yoke, and after long struggles the liberty 
that Napoleon had promised her consisted but in entire sub- 
mission to his own behests. To Poland, too, he promised de- 
liverance, and, after the unfortunate country had risen, and 
spent her last strength and her best blood in the war against 
Russia, she became exhausted, and offered no resistance when 
he claimed her as his spoil, and declared the Poles, who had 
dreamed that they were free, to be subjects of France. The 
princes of the Rhenish Confederation were compelled to send 
their German troops to Spain, to wage war against a nation 
that was struggling for independence; and Napoleon in the 
meantime placed a French adventurer upon a throne in the 
middle of Germany, and erected a kingdom for him from the 
spoils he had taken from. German princes. Holland, which 
had endeavored to preserve some vestiges of liberty, was sud- 
denly deprived of her sovereign, and converted into a French 
province ; and when Napoleon had succeeded in bringing about 
a war between Sweden and Russia, and instigating unfortu- 
nate Finland to resist the latter power, he profited by the 
favorable moment, and took Stralsund and the Island of 
Rugen, both of which belonged to the King of Sweden, who 
had been his ally up to that time. In Italy only the Pon- 
tifical states and the holy father at Rome still resisted him, 
after the remainder of the peninsula had awakened from its 
dreams of liberty under the rule of French marshals and Na- 
poleonic princes. He instigated Naples and Sardinia against . 
Rome, and when the struggle had commenced, he magnani- 
mously hastened to the assistance of his brother-in-law Murat, 
arrested the pope, conveyed him as a prisoner to France, and 
declared Rome to be the property of that country until the 
pope should submit to his will. No country, no nation, es- 
caped his intrigues — conflagrations, devastation, and death 
accompanied him everywhere! But the nations, as I have 
stated already, are at length impatient; they are wearied of 
fighting; or, rather, if they still fight, they intend to do so 
only in order to conquer peace for themselves, and bring 


10 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


retribution on him who was the sole cause of all this blood- 
shed.” 

“ And they commenced by rushing, at his command, into the 
field — by entering upon another war!” exclaimed Frederick 
William, shrugging his shoulders with a sneer. 

“Your majesty,” said Iiardenberg, solemnly, “they will do 
so now for the last time. Napoleon is digging his own grave, 
and, by consolidating the forces of all countries into one vast 
army, he makes friends of those whom he hitherto successfully 
tried to make enemies and adversaries of each other. But 
when the nations have once found out that they are really 
brethren, it only needs a voice calling upon them to unite for 
one grand object — that is to say, for the deliverance of Europe 
from the tyrant’s yoke!” 

“Those are Utopian dreams,” said the king. “Whence 
should this voice come? Who would be so audacious as to 
utter it?” 

“Whence should this voice come?” asked Hardenberg. 
“ Your majesty, it will come from heaven, and find an echo 
on the whole earth. It will resound from the hundred thou- 
sand graves of the soldiers killed in battle ; from the breasts of 
sorrowing widows and orphans, and, like the noise of the 
tempest, it will come from the lips of thousands of humiliated 
and disgraced men. This voice will not be that of a single 
man; but G-od, Nature, and all nations, will unite, and mil- 
lions will utter that one shout of ‘Liberty! Let us rise and 
expel the tyrant!’ ” 

“But, then, the story of the tower of Babel will be re- 
enacted,” said Frederick William, sighing; “the nations will 
not understand each other ; an endless confusion of languages 
will ensue, and, finally, the building, which they intended 
jointly to erect, will fall to ruins and they be dispersed.” 

“ In order to prevent this, a chieftain must gladly place him- 
self at their head, and direct their will,” exclaimed Harden- 
berg. “I hope God will intrust this leadership to your 
majesty.” 

“To me?” asked the king, almost angrily. “Will you 
take the liberty of mocking my distress, or do you believe that 
I ought to be consoled in the calamities of the present by such 
hopes of the future?” 

“ No, your majesty, I am only convinced that God will one 
day intrust the task of retribution to Prussia, because it is she 
that has suffered most.” 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


11 


“ Let us leave retribution to God,” said the king, gently. 

“No, your majesty,” exclaimed Hardenberg, “let us now 
take upon ourselves the task of avenging our wrongs, and only 
pray to Heaven for a blessing on our efforts. And that God 
is with us, that He at last averts His face from the man who 
has so long trampled the world under foot, is shown by the 
new war into which Napoleon is about to enter. This expe- 
dition to Russia is the first step to his ruin!” 

“ Oh, you are mistaken!” exclaimed the king, almost indig- 
nantly. “ It will be a new triumphal procession for Napoleon. 
Russia will succumb to him, as we all have done. He marches 
upon the position of his enemy with the armies of all his 
allies — half a million of warriors and thousands of cannon — 
while Russia stands alone; she has no force compared with 
his, and no allies whatever.” 

“ She has one friend more powerful than any Napoleon has,” 
said Hardenberg, solemnly — “ Nature. When this ally ap- 
pears, with its masses of ice and snow-storms, Napoleon is 
lost.” 

“ But he will take good care not to wait for this reenforce- 
ment,” exclaimed the king. “As always, he will finish the 
war in a few weeks, vanquish the feeble forces of Alexander 
with his own tremendous columns in one or two decisive bat- 
tles, and then, on the ruins of the Russian empire, dictate 
terms of peace to the humiliated emperor. This has been the 
course of events ever since Bonaparte commanded, and so it 
will be hereafter.” 

“Your majesty, it will not; for, during twelve years, he 
has been the instructor of the world, and the nations have 
learned from him not only the art of war, but his special 
strategies. His secret consists in the rapidity of his move- 
ments. He has made Macchiavelli’s words his own: ‘A 
short and vigorous war insures victory!’ He must, therefore, 
be opposed by a protracted and desultory war — his enemies* 
must fight long, not with heavy columns, but with light bat- 
talions, now here, now there ; they must take care not to bring 
on a general battle, but slowly thin the ranks of his army, and 
exhaust his resources and his patience. This was the course 
which the Spaniards pursued, and their hopes are, therefore, 
promising; they are carrying on a guerilla warfare, and he is 
obliged to renew the struggle every day without being able to 
defeat them in a decisive battle. Russia will adopt a similar 
plan. She will take pains to draw Napoleon farther and 


12 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


farther into the interior of the country, incessantly alluring 
him forward by insignificant victories, rendering him eager 
for a great battle. In strict obedience to the plans he lias 
adopted, she will especially endeavor to weaken Napoleon, and 
cut him off from his supplies and base of operations. She will 
successively fight him at every important point with a strong 
army, supported by large reserves, tire him out, and ruin him 
in detail. This plan she will adhere to until her great ally 
approaches from Siberia — grim Winter, covering Russia with 
an invulnerable defence, so that her sons may at last take 
the offensive, and expel the terrified enemy.” 

“ That is a grand, but an infernal scheme!” exclaimed the 
king, who had risen, and was walking up and down with 
hasty steps. “ Who conceived it?” 

“ No single brain ; it is the result of the consultations of the 
most eminent Russian generals. They also have studied 
Macchiavelli, and found that significant axiom, ‘He who 
knows how to resist will conquer in the end. ’ The Russians, 
therefore, will resist, and they will conquer.” 

“ But who tells you that this is the plan which Russia will 
adopt?” asked the king. “Whence have you derived such 
accurate information?” 

“Your majesty,” said Hardenberg, smiling, “though we 
publicly act as the enemies of Russia, and are compelled to 
send our army against her, she secretly regards us as her ally, 
and knows well that we are only waiting for the favorable mo- 
ment to drop the mask and become the open enemy of the 
usurper. We have, therefore, warm friends in Russia, who 
will keep us informed about every thing going on, that we 
may prudently use the favorable moment when we also can 
take up arms against Napoleon.” 

“No rash steps — no coups de main,” exclaimed Frederick 
William, gravely and imperiously, standing in front of Har- 
denberg, and looking him full in the face. “ I am opposed 
to any sort of underhand games; when you are not strong 
enough to attack your enemy openly and honestly, you ought 
to be too proud to shoot at him from an ambuscade, like a 
coward and bandit. The bullet may miss him, and he who 
fired it dies as a traitor, overwhelmed with disgrace. I have 
concluded this alliance with France; I am now her ally, and 
thereby compelled to furnish her an auxiliary corps of twenty 
thousand men against Russia; so long, therefore, as this cam- 
paign lasts, I must, by virtue of the pledges I have given, 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


13 


stand by France, and woe to tlie general of mine who should 
forget this, and disobey the orders I have given him!” 

“ There may be circumstances, however, your majesty,” said 
Hardenberg, in an embarrassed tone, “ circumstances — ” 

“There can be none,” interrupted the king, “justifying us 
to turn traitors. A man has but one word to pledge, and that 
I have pledged to Napoleon. When my soldiers forsake the 
colors under which I have placed them, they shall be punished 
as deserters. No one knows the anguish with which I say 
this, but as a man who must keep his word, and as a com- 
mander-in-chief who, above all, must maintain discipline and 
subordination, I cannot speak otherwise. Tell your friends 
in Russia so. I am sad and dejected enough, compelled as I 
am to become Napoleon’s ally. But I will not perjure 
myself!” 

“Your majesty, I bow in admiration of these noble words 
of my king,” exclaimed Hardenberg, enthusiastically; “ I wish 
the whole world could hear them. At this hour you obtained 
a greater victory than Napoleon ever gained on the battle- 
field — a victory of duty and fidelity over your own inclinations 
and wishes ! Far be it from me to oppose this magnanimous 
resolution. Our army, then, will march out side by side with 
the French troops and will return, if it ever should, as an auxil- 
iary corps of the grand army. But then, your majesty, the 
new day will dawn, for which we must prepare while Napo- 
leon is in Russia. It must be in secret — in the dead of night 
— but the rising sun will find us ready. The world is now 
united for the great work ; brethren are offering their hands 
to brethren from the shores of the Mediterranean to those of 
the Atlantic and the Baltic. Their common sufferings have 
filled their hearts with the same love and hatred. All the 
nations are uniting into one family, and in their wrath will 
destroy him w r ho is menacing all alike. Secret messengers 
keep the brethren in the west and north, in the south and 
east, well informed of what is done by their friends. Patri- 
otic poets are arousing the nations from the lethargy that en- 
thralled them during so many years ; they make them hear 
the gospel of liberty, and awaken them from their indiffer- 
ence. In secret workshops the brethren are forging arms ; in 
the night the sisters are at work upon uniforms, and their 
children are making lint for warriors to be wounded in the 
holy war of liberation. They are quietly preparing for it in 
the offices, the students’ halls, and the workshops. At the first 


14 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


call they will fling aside their pens and tools, take up the 
sword, and hasten into the field, to deliver the fatherland. 
All Europe, at the present moment, is but one vast secret so- 
ciety, which has even in France active and influential mem- 
bers. Napoleon stands on a volcano, which will soon engulf 
him.” 

“ Enough !” exclaimed the king, anxiously. “ Say no more ; 
I will know nothing about secret societies and conspiracies. 
They are perhaps an inevitable evil in these times, but still 
they are an evil, destroying those for whose benefit they were 
intended.” 

“ May God in His mercy favor them in advancing our 
cause,” exclaimed Hardenberg, “that from them may arise 
the army that is to deliver the nations from the yoke of the 
tyrant! I am convinced that it will be so, and that the mo- 
ment will come when Prussia will be able to redeem the oath 
which I am sure every Prussian took when he saw the coffin of 
the august Queen Louisa. On the day, your majesty, when I 
saw it, I resolved to strive for no other object than to deliver 
my country. For this I will devote my whole strength — my 
life, if need be! Heaven heard my oath, and I shall not die 
before its fulfilment.” 

The king gazed long and mournfully upon the queen’s por- 
trait which hung over his desk, and represented her in the 
attire in which Frederick William had seen her for the first 
time. “ But she died before the hour of deliverance struck,” 
he said, gloomily, to himself. “ Her heart was broken, and 
she did not even take hope with her into the grave. She, — ” 
he stopped suddenly, and turned his eyes toward Hardenberg. 
“I will communicate something to you,” he said briefly and 
impulsively; “I will confess to you that I comprehend your 
oath ; for I also took one when I held the queen’s corpse in 
my arms. In the beginning the terrible blow paralyzed my 
soul, and I felt as though I had been hurled into a dark abyss. 
Suddenly I heard, as from a voice resounding in my ears, 
‘You must not die before you avenge her death upon him who 
broke her heart!’ I bent over her, and kissing her lips, swore 
that I would live only to obey. I have not forgotten that oath 
and that hour, and, you may depend on it, I shall ever re- 
member it; but I will wait for the favorable moment and it 
must not be supposed that I can allow myself to he carried 
away by imprudent projects.” 

“No one would wish that, your majesty,” said Hardenberg 


FREDERICK WILLIAM AND HARDENBERG. 


15 


hastily. “ On the contrary, prudence, above all, is necessary 
at the present time, and for this reason I would entreat you to 
overcome your feelings and go to Dresden, to pay your re- 
spects to the emperor.” 

“Never!” exclaimed Frederick William, starting up and 
blushing with indignation. “ No, nowhere else than in bat- 
tle can I meet again this man, who has destroyed my happi- 
ness, my honor, and my hopes! Do not allude to this any 
more. It cannot be. How can I meet him, whom I have 
not seen since the days of Tilsit? Who can ask me to go to 
Dresden, to stand there as a courtier at the door of an arro- 
gant victor, and mingle with the crowd of his trainbearers?” 

“ Your majesty, the Emperor of Austria will also go to 
Dresden,” said Hardenberg, entreatingly. 

“ The Emperor of Austria does so, because he is unfortunate 
enough to be Napoleon’s father-in-law.” 

“ Nevertheless, the Emperor Francis saw his son-in-law for 
the last time on the day when, after the battle of Austerlitz, 
he repaired as a supplicant to the bivouac-fire of Napoleon, 
and implored the conqueror to grant him peace. That was 
even worse than Tilsit, and still the Emperor of Austria comes 
to Dresden, to become, as your majesty said, the tiainbearer 
of the victor.” 

“ Why does he do so?” asked the king, shrugging his shoul- 
ders. “ Because he must — because at the present time every 
wish of Napoleon is almost an order, even for princes. Na- 
poleon caused his ambassador at Vienna verbally to inform 
the emperor that he wished to see his father-in-law at Dres- 
den, and witness the meeting of his consort, Maria Louisa, 
with her parents. The Emperor Francis hastened to comply 
with this request, and is expected to arrive to-morrow.” 

“Well, Bonaparte, fortunately, expressed to me no such 
wish, and it will not be expected that I should go thither 
without being requested to do so.” 

“ Pardon me, your majesty, our ambassador at Dresden re- 
ceived a similar communication from the French envoy at the 
court of Saxony. The Emperor Napoleon desires likewise to 
see your majesty at Dresden. Here is the letter from the 
ambassador.” 

The king took the paper and hastily glanced over it. He 
then heaved a profound sigh, and, returning it to Harden- 
berg, fixed his eyes once more upon the portrait of the queen. 
He gazed steadfastly upon it. Gradually the expression of 


16 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


his features became milder, and his gloomy eye more cheerful. 
With a wave of his hand he called Hardenberg to his side ; 
looking again at the portrait, and saluting it with a gentle 
nod, he said, “ She overcame her feelings, and went to Tilsit, 
because she believed it necessary, for the welfare of Prussia, 
to pacify the wrath of Napoleon. I will follow the example 
of my beloved Louisa. I will conquer myself, and go to 
Dresden. But you, Hardenberg, must accompany me.” 


CHAPTEE II. 

THE WHITE LADY. 

Great commotion reigned at the palace of Baireuth. 
Servauts hurried through the brilliantly-decorated rooms, 
spreading out here and there an additional carpet, placing 
everywhere vases filled with fragrant flowers, or dusting the 
finely-polished furniture. It was a great and important day 
for Baireuth. All felt it, and excitement and curiosity drove 
the inhabitants into the streets. No one cared to stay at 
home, or be absent at that historic hour which was to shed 
upon Baireuth a ray of her ancient glory. 

The man at whose feet the world was prostrate, to whom 
kings and princes were bowing, before whom empires trem- 
bled and thrones passed away, who had only to stretch out his 
hand to establish new dynasties, and whom the world admired 
while it hated — Napoleon — was to arrive at Baireuth. The 
quartermasters had arrived already early in the morning, and 
ordered in the name of the emperor that the rooms at the 
palace should be put in readiness, because he intended to 
reach Baireuth in the afternoon of the 14th of May, and stop 
overnight. 

The whole population seemed to be in the streets. The 
windows of the houses along the route of the emperor were 
open, crowded with the most distinguished ladies of the city ; 
they were dressed in their most beautiful toilets, and held in 
their hands bouquets, with which they intended to salute Na- 
poleon. But the greatest commotion, as we have remarked, 
reigned at the new palace, for the emperor had given express 
orders that apartments should be prepared for him there, and 
not at the old palace of the Margraves of Brandenburg. 


THE WHITE LADY. 


17 


Count Munster, intendant of the palaces, had, of course, com- 
plied with these orders, and four brilliant rooms were ready 
for the reception of Napoleon. All the arrangements were 
completed, and the intendant, followed by the castellan, 
walked for the last time through the imperial rooms to satisfy 
himself that every thing was in good order. 

“ No, nothing has been left undone,” said the count, when 
he stepped into the bedchamber destined for the emperor. 
“Every thing is as comfortable as it is splendid; the arrange- 
ment reflects a great deal of credit upon you, my dear Schlu- 
ter, and will, doubtless, procure you a liberal reward from 
the emperor, who is said to be very munificent.” 

“ I do not wish to accept any presents at the tyrant’s hands,” 
growled the castellan, with a gloomy face; “I do not want 
to stain my hands with the plunder which he brings from 
foreign lands, and which is accompanied with a curse rather 
than a blessing.” 

“ You are a fool, my dear Schluter,” exclaimed the count, 
laughing. “ You see at least that curses do not incommode 
the emperor, for his power and authority are constantly on 
the increase. He is now going to Dresden, to see at his feet 
all the princes of Germany; and he will then hasten north- 
ward, to gain new victories and humiliate the only man in the 
world who still dares to defy him, the Emperor Alexander of 
Russia.” 

“ I know some one else who will not bow to him, and whom 
he will not humiliate,” said the castellan, contemptuously 
shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well, and who is that?” asked Count Munster, quickly. 

“It is the White Lady!” exclaimed the castellan, solemnly 
and loudly. 

Count Munster shuddered and glanced around in evident 
terror. “ Eor Heaven’s sake, hush !” he said, hastily. “ Pray 
forget these foolish hallucinations, and, above all, do not ven- 
ture to talk about them at the present time.” 

The castellan shook his head slowly. “ You ought not to 
talk of hallucinations, count,” he said, solemnly. “The 
White Lady is awake and walking, and she knows that the 
enemy of her house, the house of Brandenburg, will spend the 
coming night at this palace. I repeat it to your excellency, 
she is walking, and her eyes are filled with wrath, and there 
is a curse on her lips against the enemy of the Hohenzollerns. 
I would not be surprised if she should shout to-night into the 


18 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ears of the tyrant, and, by her words, awaken him from his 
slumber.” 

“Gracious Heaven, Schluter, do not talk so audaciously!” 
exclaimed the count, anxiously. “ If one of the attendants of 
the emperor overhear your words, you would perish. Napo- 
leon is said to be somewhat superstitious; he, who otherwise 
is afraid of nothing in the world, is said to be easily terrified 
by ghosts, and to believe in all sorts of omens and prophecies. 
He has already heard of the White Lady of Baireuth, and 
therefore given express orders that apartments should be pre- 
pared for him at the new palace, and not at the old one, and 
rooms selected in which she was not in the habit of walking.* 
I hope that you have punctually carried out this order, and 
that these rooms are exempt from the visits of the apparition?” 

“ Who has the power to give orders to spirits, and command 
them, ‘So far and no farther?’ ” asked the castellan, almost 
scornfully. “She goes whither she desires, and the doors 
closed against her she opens by a breath. The walls disappear 
before her, and. where you expect her least of all, there you 
suddenly meet her tall, majestic form in the white dress, her 
head covered with a black veil, under which her large angry 
eyes are flashing.” 

“Hush, Schluter!” exclaimed the count, anxiously, “I 
know the portrait of the White Lady, which hangs in the 
cabinet adjoining the audience-hall, and it is, therefore, un- 
necessary for you to describe her appearance to me.” 

“ Your excellency knows that we have two portraits of the 
White Lady,” said tlie castellan, laconically. 

“ Yes, the one with the white dress is at the hermitage; the 
other, representing her in a dark dress, is here at the palace. 
Thank Lleaven ! there is but one portrait of her here, and I 
hope it is in the other wing of the building.” 

“That is to say, I saw the portrait there this afternoon, but 
who knows whether it is still there?” 

“How so? Who knows?” asked the count impatiently. 
“ What do you mean?” 

“ I mean, count, that it is in fact no portrait, but only the 
bed in which the White Lady sleeps until it pleases her to 
walk, and that, while she is walking, it will certainly not be 
found at its place. Did I not report to your excellency six 
months since that the portrait had again broken the nail and 
fallen? It was an entirely new nail, count, so firm and 

* Historical.— Vide Minutoli, “ The White Lady,” p. 17. 


THE WHITE LADY. 


19 


strong, that half a regiment of French soldiers might have 
been hung upon it at the same time; I had had the nail made 
by the blacksmith, and the mason fixed it. I myself hung up 
the portrait, and it seemed as firm as though it had grown in 
the wall. But that very night a noise like a thunder-clap 
rolling over my head awakened me, and when I opened my 
eyes, the White Lady stood at my bedside; her right hand 
raised menacingly, her black veil thrown back, she stared at 
me with a face flashing with anger. I uttered a cry, and shut 
my eyes. When I opened them again, she had disappeared. 
In the morning I went into the hall to look after the portrait. 
It was gone. Where the nail had been fixed nothing but a 
blood-red stain was to be seen; the nail itself, broken into 
small pieces, lay on the floor. The portrait had walked to 
the small cabinet adjoining the hall, and was quietly leaning 
there against the wall as though nothing had happened.” 

“ And I told you to let it stand there, and not try again to 
hang it up. The large painting is too heavy.” 

“ If the large painting wanted to hang on the wall it would 
allow the smallest nail to hold it,” said Schluter, shaking his 
head. “ But the White Lady wishes to stand on her own feet, 
and no human power is able to prevent her.” 

“Schluter, I repeat to you, you are a dreamer,” exclaimed 
the count, impatiently. “ Let us speak no more of the ap- 
parition. It makes one feel quite curious. Tell me now 
whether you have really removed the portrait far enough that 
it cannot be seen by the emperor?” 

“ When I was an hour ago at the cabinet adjoining the au- 
dience-hall, the portrait was still there. But who knows what 
may have happened since then?” 

“Well, it is a fixed idea of yours,” said the count, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. “ I do not wish to hear any more of it 
These rooms are finely arranged, and I have no fault to find 
with them. Now lock the entrance-door, and let us go out 
through the Gallery of Palms, by which the emperor will 
have to enter.” 

“ Pray, your excellency, lead the way; I shall lock the door 
and immediately follow you,” said the castellan, walking has- 
tily through the opened rooms. 

Count Munster slowly walked on, thoughtfully looking 
down, and shuddering inwardly at the immovable superstition 
of the castellan, whom his reason vainly endeavored to deride. 

“And still it is folly, nothing but folly,” he muttered to 


I 


20 NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 

himself, while opening the high hall-door, and stepping into 
the anteroom, to which, on account of its length and narrow- 
ness, and the fresco paintings of tropical plants on the walls, 
the name of the “ Gallery of Palms ” had been given. 

All was silent in this gallery; the setting sun shed its beams 
through the windows, covered with dark curtains, and drew 
trembling shining lines across the high room. The footsteps 
of the count resounded so loudly that he himself was fright- 
ened, and glanced anxiously around. Suddenly he started in 
dismay, and quickly advanced several steps. He had seen 
something moving at the lower end of the gallery, and it 
seemed to him as though he had heard approaching footsteps. 
Yes, he was not mistaken; now he saw it quite distinctly! 
A lady approached. The sun illuminated her tall form, and 
shed a golden light over the white dress falling down in 
ample folds over her feet. She approached with slow steps, 
quite regardless of the count, who at first looked at her in 
surprise, and then turned with an angry face toward the cas- 
tellan, who just then entered. 

“You did not comply, then, with my orders, Schluter?” 
exclaimed the count, vehemently. “ I told you expressly to 
keep the rooms shut until the emperor’s arrival, and not to 
admit any one. How could you dare disobey my instructions?” 

“But, your excellency, I did obey them,” answered Schlu- 
ter. “ Not a human being besides the footmen has been per- 
mitted to enter here, and even those I drove out two hours 
ago, and shut the doors.” 

“ If that be true, how does it happen that there is a lady 
here in the gallery,” asked Count Munster, stretching out his 
arm toward the lower end of the apartment. 

“A lady?” asked Schluter, greatly amazed. “Where is 
she, your excellency?” 

The count fixed his eyes searchingly on the large arched 
window, in the bright light of which he had distinctly seen 
the lady. She was gone — the gallery was empty. “ You for- 
got to shut the lower door, and while I turned and scolded 
you, the lady escaped!” he exclaimed. He hastily rushed 
forward, and tried to open the door leading into the corridor: 
but this was locked. The count vainly shook the lock. 
“ That is strange,” he muttered, dropping his hand. “ I know 
I saw her distinctly; it is impossible that I could have been 
mistaken. Where can she be? What has become of her? 
Where has she concealed herself?” 


THE WHITE LADY. 


21 


“ What becomes of the last sigh of a dying person, your ex- 
cellency,” asked Schluter, solemnly. “ Where does the soul 
conceal itself after escaping from the body?” 

“ Ah, nonsense!” ejaculated Count Munster. “It could 
not have been a spectre. Why, it is not a spectre’s hour, 
and, besides, I certainly saw the lady plainly; it was a de- 
cidedly earthly figure. Her face was pale and grave, but 
there was nothing spectral about it. She wore a black veil 
thrown back from her face; the upper part of her body was 
covered with — ” 

“A dark pelisse trimmed with fur,” interrupted Schluter, 
composedly. “ Below this dark pelisse protruded a white silk 
dress, falling to the ground in full folds.” 

“ Yes, yes, that was the costume,” exclaimed the count. 
“ But how do you know it without having seen her?” 

“It is the costume of the White Lady, your excellency,” 
said Schluter, “ and it was she who just walked through the 
gallery. Pray, count, go with me to the other wing of the 
palace and look at her portrait; your excellency will then be 
convinced that I tell the truth.” 

“No, no, I do not wish to see it,” replied Count Munster, 
whose cheeks turned pale, and who felt his heart frozen with 
terror. “Unlock the door, Schluter! The air here is sultry 
and very oppressive ! Quick! quick! open the door!” The 
castellan obeyed, and the count rushed out into the corridor, 
where he opened a window and inhaled the fresh air in eager 
draughts. 

At this moment shouts were heard at a distance, and at the 
same time the count’s footman rushed breathlessly down the 
corridor. “ Your excellency, the emperor is coming. He has 
already passed through the gate, and the people are loudly 
cheering him. I have run as fast as I could, in order to in- 
form your excellency.” 

“I am coming,” said the count, advancing rapidly. But, 
having proceeded a few steps, he turned again and beckoned 
the castellan to his side. “Schluter,” he whispered to him, 
if you love your life, do not say a word about what has just 
happened here. It must remain a secret.” 

“A secret!” muttered Schluter to himself, gazing after the 
count, who hurried away. The White Lady will manage the 
affair in such a manner that he at least will hear of the secret, 
and the bloodthirsty tyrant will not sleep well in the palace 
of the Margraves of Brandenburg.” He violently closed the 


22 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


door and stepped out into the large staircase-hall, the doors of 
which opened upon the street. Uttering incoherent words 
of indignation in an undertone, the castellan pushed open 
one of the windows and looked gloomily down on the street. 
An immense crowd were in front of the palace; all eyes were 
turned to the side from which the emperor was to approach. 
Breathless with curiosity, the people waited for the arrival of 
the hero who had conquered nearly all the world. 

“How those fools are gaping!” growled Schluter. “Idle 
and lazy as usual; they like to complain and lament, but they 
never think of doing anything. If only each one would take 
up a single stone from the pavement and throw it as a greet- 
ing at the tyrant’s iron head, all this distress and wretched 
ness would be at an end. But no one thinks of that, and I 
should not wonder if those fellows, instead of cursing him, 
should enthusiastically cheer him.” 

The shouts drew nearer at this moment, as the crowd rushed 
from the lower part of the street, their acclamations growing 
constantly more deafening. French lancers galloped up to 
keep the people back, and several carriages, preceded by a 
plain calash, came in view. A negro, dressed in a richly- 
embroidered livery, sat on the box by the side of the coach- 
man; two plainly-dressed gentlemen occupied the inside of 
the carriage. 

“ That is he !” growled Schluter. The Evil One brings him 
hither — he is his best friend. Yes, that is he, and he looks 
pale, grave, and incensed, as though he would like to wither 
by a single glance the whole miserable rabble staring at him.” 

“That is he!” shouted the people. “Long live Napoleon! 
Long live the emperor!” 

Napoleon gazed coldly and impassively upon the crowd, 
whose cheers came to him as a sound to which he had long 
been accustomed, and which was by no means agreeable. It 
was not worth while for him to smile on these inhabitants of a 
small city; a cold, quick nod was a sufficient acknowledgment. 
“ Long live Napoleon!” shouted the crowd again, when the 
emperor, having left the carriage, now turned again in front 
of the palace-gate, and gazed long and indifferently upon the 
spectators. 

The castellan closed his window. “Ah!” he said, “ he 
dares to enter this palace. The White Lady will bid him 
welcome, and know how to hasten the flight of this arrogant 
tyrant. Napoleon is coming! Do you" hear that, White 


THE WHITE LADY. 


23 


Lady? Napoleon is coming!” He burst into laughter, and, 
opening the door of the corridor, took a position at the one 
leading into the Gallery of Palms. 

Footsteps resounded on the staircase, and various persons 
appeared. Generals, adjutants, and lackeys hurried in and 
formed on both sides, as it were, in line of battle. The em- 
peror then entered the lower end of the corridor ; Count Mun- 
ster walked by his side in the most respectful and submissive 
manner. All bowed their heads reverentially, but the em- 
peror took no notice of them, and slowly passed the saluting 
officers and servants. 

“I hope you have punctually fulfilled my orders, count?” 
he asked, in his sonorous voice. “ This is the new palace, is 
it not?” 

“ It is, sire. And this man will testify that no one has set 
foot into the imperial rooms,” said Count Munster, pointing 
with a smile to the castellan, who, holding his bunch of keys in 
his uplifted arm, stood at the entrance of the Gallery of Palms. 

“Who is it?” asked Napoleon, whose eagle eye was fixed 
upon Schluter. 

“ Sire, it is the castellan of this palace, a faithful, reliable 
man, who has been on service here for more than thirty years. 
He has guarded and locked the rooms, and they open now 
only to your majesty’s orders.” 

“ Open,” ordered the emperor, with a quick wave of his 
hand. The castellan obeyed, and Napoleon entered. Count 
Munster followed, and the attendants crowded in after them. 
Advancing quickly into the middle of the gallery, the emperor 
stood directly in front of the arched window in which Count 
Munster had before seen the strange apparition. 

“ The White Lady, then, never appears in this wing of the 
palace?” asked Napoleon, abruptly. 

“No, sire — never,” said Count Munster, solemnly. “On 
the whole, sire, no one here believes in the absurd old story, 
and I am sure no one knows of the White Lady otherwise than 
from hearsay.” 

The emperor nodded, and passed on. “Let us soon have 
supper; you will be my guest,” he said, turning on the thresh- 
old to Count Munster and dismissing the gentlemen of his 
suite. 

The door closed. He was now a guest at the palace of the 
ancestors of the royal family of Prussia, the Margraves of 
Brandenburg. 


24 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER III. 

NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 

The emperor had long risen from the supper-table. The 
imperial suite had been allowed to withdraw. Alone he sat in 
a comfortable night-dress on the high, antiquated easy-chair, 
in front of the fire-place, in which, at his express order, not- 
withstanding the warm weather, a large fire had been kindled. 
He liked heat; the sun of Egypt and the desert had never 
been too warm for him ; in the hottest summer days in France 
he frequently felt chilly, and called for a fire. It seemed as 
though the inflamed blood in his veins made the world appear 
cold to him; he saw the light of the sunbeams, but did not 
feel their warmth. He now sat close to the fire, his face bent 
over the large map that lay on the table. It was a map of 
Russia. He rapidly drew several lines across it, marking po- 
sitions with the colored pins, taken from the small boxes 
beside him. “ Yes, this is my plan,” he said to himself, after 
a long pause. “ Three of my corps must be placed on the 
Niemen; Davoust, Oudinot, and Ney, will command them. 
There, farther to the left, the cavalry reserves, under Nan- 
souty and Montbrun, will take position. Here the old guard, 
under Lefebore; there the young guard, under Mortier and 
Bessieres, with the cavalry of the guard. At this point, 
farther to the south, the fourth corps, composed of the Italians 
and Bavarians, will operate, and the Viceroy of Italy, Eugene, 
will be its general-in-chief. Farther down, here at Grodno 
and Bialystock, I will place the Poles, Westphalians, and Sax- 
ons; the fifth, seventh, and eighth corps to be commanded by 
my brother Jerome. The Prussians will halt at Tilsit, and 
form the extreme left wing; Macdonald will be their leader; 
and below there, at Drochiczyn Schwartzenberg with his Aus- 
trians will form the extreme right wing. The preparations 
are complete, and the thunder-cloud is ready to burst over 
Russia if Alexander should persist in his obstinacy. Like the 
waves of the tempestuous ocean, my armies are rolling toward 
the shores of Russia. They can still be stopped by a suppliant 
word from Alexander. If he refuses, let his destiny be ful- 
filled, and let the roar of my cannon inform him that his hour 
has struck, and that the end of his imperial power draws nigh. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


25 


It was his own will. He himself has brought destruction 
upon his head ! He — ” 

A loud noise above his head, making the walls tremble and 
the windows rattle suddenly interrupted the stillness. The 
emperor rose from his seat and shouted “Roustan!” The 
door of the adjoining room opened and the Mameluke ap- 
peared on the threshold. 

“ What was it?” asked Napoleonliastily. 

“ Sire, it was as if a wall fell in above us; the noise was as 
loud as though a cannon were fired in the palace. I rushed 
immediately into the corridor, but every thing there was 
quiet. Only the castellan of the palace appeared in the 
utmost haste in his night-gown, and asked whether an acci- 
dent had happened in the rooms of the emperor.” 

“ Where is the castellan now?” 

“ Sire, when I told him that the noise was on the upper 
floor, he immediately went thither in order to see what had 
occurred.” 

“ Go and bring him to me,” ordered Napoleon; and when 
Roustan had withdrawn, the emperor fixed his eyes steadfastly 
on the door, and his compressed lips quivered with im- 
patience. 

Finally, the door opened again; Roustan appeared, followed 
by the castellan, pale and trembling, behind the Mameluke, 
and clinging with his hands to the door to support himself. 

Napoleon cast upon him one of his quick glances. “ What 
was this noise, and why do you tremble so violently?” 

“Pardon me, your majesty,” faltered Schluter, “but my 
terror — the surprise — I am afraid I have lost my senses. I 
have just seen something so unheard of, so incredible, that 
I—” 

“ What have you seen?” asked Napoleon. “Speak! What 
was this noise?” 

The castellan slowly raised his head, and stared with terri- 
fied eyes at the emperor. “ Your majesty,” he said, solemnly, 
“the White Lady made the noise!” 

Napoleon started, and his brow grew clouded. “ But did 
they not tell me that the miserable spectre never haunted this 
part of the palace?” he asked. “Did I not issue orders that 
rooms should be given me w’here I should not be disturbed by 
this apparition?” 

“Your majesty, she has hitherto never entered these 
rooms,” exclaimed Schluter. “Never before has the White 
3 


26 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Lady directed her steps hither, and this afternoon her por- 
trait stood quietly in a cabinet of the other wing of the palace. 
I can take an oath that this is true.” 

“What portrait do you refer to?” asked Napoleon, im- 
patiently. 

“ The portrait of the White Lady,” said Schluter. “ I saw 
it this very day in the cabinet on the other side; all the doors 
were locked, and now I suddenly find this large painting in 
the room above you ; it was lying on the floor as if in walking 
it had stumbled over something and fallen. It is the first 
time that the White Lady appears in this wing of the palace; 
her portrait has come from the other side, and Heaven alone 
knows how it has happened. Whenever we wished to convey 
the painting, with its enormous wooden frame, from one room 
to another, no less than six men were required to carry it, and 
now it is here as though it had flitted through the air: and it 
is lying on the floor as if struck down by lightning.” 

“And you think the fall of the painting produced the 
noise?” 

“ I feel convinced of it. If your majesty wishes me to do 
so, I will get a few men, go up-stairs to raise the painting, 
and let it fall again, that your majesty may judge whether it 
is the same noise or not.” 

“Ah, you do not feel much respect for your walking por- 
trait,” exclaimed the emperor, smiling. “ You want to abuse 
it, and make experiments with it. We will suppose that the 
fall of the painting was the sole cause of the noise. Now, 
that it is on the floor, I believe it will lie still and disturb us 
no longer, unless it be that your portrait should fall asleep and 
snore. What do you know about that?” 

“Your majesty,” said Schluter, gravely, “the White Lady 
never sleeps!” 

The emperor cast a searching glance upon him, and then 
turned away, folded his hands, and slowly paced the room. 
Suddenly he stood in front of the castellan. 

“ What about this White Lady?” he asked, hastily. “ Who 
was she, and what is her history?” 

“ Ah, sire, it is a long and melancholy history concerning 
the ancestors of the Margraves of Brandenburg,” said Schlu- 
ter, sighing. 

“ You know the history?” 

“Yes, your majesty, I know it well.” 

“Tell it to me, but very briefly,” said Napoleon, throwing 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


27 


himself on the easy-chair in front the fireplace, and ordering 
Roustan, by a wave of his hand and the word “Fire!” to add 
fresh fuel. 

“ Now, tell me all about it.” 

“Your majesty,” replied Schluter, hesitatingly, “I do not 
know how to narrate a story in fine words, and you must par- 
don me if I do not acquit myself very satisfactorily.” 

“ Who was this White Lady?” 

“ Sire, her name was Cunigunda, Countess von Plassenburg. 
Her parents had compelled her to marry the old Count von 
Plassenburg, and when her husband died, after two years of 
unhappy wedded life, the Countess Cunigunda of Orlamunde 
and Plassenburg was a young widow, twenty-four years of age, 
heiress of the splendid Plassenburg, and mother of two chil- 
dren. She was a gay-spirited lady, and looked around for 
another husband. Her eyes fell on the Burgrave of Nurem- 
berg, the distinguished nobleman Albert the Handsome. The 
whole German people called him so; and all the girls, far and 
near, daughters of the nobility, as well as those of the citizens 
of Nuremberg, loved the fine-looking Burgrave of Nuremberg, 
who was the ancestor of the House of Hohenzollern. But the 
noble Count Albert loved only one young lady, beautiful Bea- 
trice of Hainault, and would marry none but her. The 
Countess Cunigunda of Orlamunde, however, was not aware 
of this, and sent him a message, asking him whether he would 
not like to marry her. She would give him, besides her 
hand, the splendid Plassenburg and all her other property. 
Burgrave Albert the Handsome smiled when he heard the 
message; shrugging his shoulders, he said: ‘Tell your coun- 
tess I regard her as very amiable, and should like to marry 
her, provided four eyes were not in existence. But as it is, I 
cannot do so. ’ The burgrave referred to the eyes of his par- 
ents, who did not like the Countess of Orlamunde, and he 
wished to make them responsible for his refusal, so as not to 
offend the beautiful widow. But Cunigunda interpreted the 
words differently, and thought the four eyes, which the Bur- 
grave said were in the way of their marriage, were those of 
her two children. She loved the handsome Burgrave so in- 
tensely, that she henceforth hated the children, because she 
believed them to be the sole obstacles to her marriage. The 
Evil One and her passion whispered into her ear, ‘Go and kill 
your children.’ So Cunigunda rose from her couch; in a 
long white night-dress, her head covered with a black veil, 


28 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


she crept to the bed of her children, and, drawing from her 
raven hair a long golden pin, set with precious stones (a gift 
which she had once received at the hands of Burgrave Albert), 
she pierced the heads of her children, penetrating the brain 
to the vertebra.” • 

“Medea!” ejaculated Napoleon, staring into the lire. 
“ This, then, is the history of the Medea of the Hohenzollern.” 

“No, sire, the name of the countess was not Medea, but 
Cunigunda,” said Schluter, respectfully. 

Napoleon smiled. “Proceed,” he said. 

“On the following morning there was great wailing at the 
Plassenburg, for the two sweet little children lay dead in their 
bed ; not a vestige of violence was to be seen, and the physi- 
cian of the countess decided that a stroke of apoplexy had 
killed them. The Countess of Orlamunde sent a mounted 
messenger to Nuremberg to Burgrave Albert the Handsome, 
requesting him to come and see her. And when the bur- 
grave came she met him in a white bridal dress, and looked at 
him with radiant eyes; in her uplifted right hand she had 
the golden hair-pin, and said, ‘The four eyes are no longer in 
existence. For your sake I have stabbed my two children 
with this pin, your first love-gift; the four eyes are extin- 
guished forever. Now, marry me!’ But the burgrave re- 
coiled in terror, and pushed back the murderess, who was 
about to embrace him. He then dragged her through the 
rooms to the dungeon of the castle. She begged and cried, 
but the burgrave had no mercy upon the infanticide, and 
hurled her down into the dungeon. He then informed the 
courts of the crime that had been committed. The Countess 
von Orlamunde, the last member of her family, was put on 
trial, and sentence of death passed upon her. The burgrave 
of Nuremberg sent the first executioner from the city to the 
Plassenburg, and the countess was beheaded in the presence of 
the burgrave, and in the same room in which she had mur- 
dered her children. Before putting her head on the block 
she glanced at the handsome burgrave, raised both her arms 
toward heaven, and took a fearful oath that she would avenge 
herself on him and his house; that, whenever one of his de- 
scendants was at the point of death, she would be present, as 
the burgrave himself was now present at her death; that she 
would never rest in her grave, but live and walk, though the 
burgrave had her executed, and that, as she was before him 
now at her last hour, she would appear to him at his last hour. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


29 


After littering these words, she put her head calmly on the 
block. The burgrave then had her buried at the convent of 
Himmelskron, and, by virtue of an old treaty, the Burgraves 
of Nuremberg now succeeded to the fiefs of the Counts of 
Orlamunde, whose line had become extinct. The Plassen- 
burg, with Baireuth and Burgundy, and all the possessions of 
the Counts of Orlamunde, therefore passed into the hands 
of Burgrave Albert the Handsome. He did not enjoy the 
inheritance a long time, for, a few years afterward, shortly 
after he had married the beautiful Countess Beatrice of 
Hainault, he died very suddenly. His wife was awakened by 
a loud cry he uttered. He then exclaimed, ‘Cunigunda, do 
you come already to take me away? Woe to me! Woe to 
me!’ All became still; the countess called for the servants 
and a light. They rushed into the room with torches. Bur- 
grave Albert the Handsome lay in his bed dead. That, your 
majesty, is the history of the White Lady of Baireuth.” 

“ This lady, then, followed the Hohenzollern from the Plas- 
senburg to Baireuth and Berlin?” asked Napoleon. “For 
she appears sometimes at Berlin, does she not?” 

“ At Berlin, and all places where members of the house of 
Hohenzollern, the descendants of the Burgraves of Nurem- 
berg, are about to die.” 

“ Oh, the dear lady, then, appears only to the family of the 
Hohenzollern,” exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. “Is it not 
so?” 

“No, your majesty, at times she appears also to others,” 
said Schluter; “she walks about the palace, and if there is 
any one in her way whom she dislikes, she tells them so, and 
angrily orders him away. She forgets no insult heaped upon 
her house, and she is terrible in her wrath.” 

“I have heard of it,” exclaimed the emperor, gloomily. 
“ My generals complained vehemently of the annoyances they 
had suffered here in 1806, owing to the movements of this 
lady. You were here at that time, were you not?” 

“ I was, sire, and so I was when General d’Espagne, in 1809, 
established his headquarters at this palace.” 

“ Ah, I remember,” said Napoleon to himself. “ Duroc told 
me the horrible story at that time. Tell me what was it that 
befell General d’Espagne here?” 

“ Sire, the general had arrived late at night, and, being 
weary, had immediately retired. In the night terrible cries 
were heard in his room. The orderlies hastened into it ; the 


30 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


general’s bed, which, when he retired for the night stood at 
the wall, was now in the middle of the room; it was upset, 
and, having fainted, he lay under it. He was placed on a 
couch, and a doctor sent for, who bled him, and, when he 
awoke, gave him sedative powders. The general declared that 
the White Lady had appeared to him, and tried to kill him. 
While struggling with her, his bed was upset, and, when 
about to succumb, he uttered loud cries for assistance. He de- 
scribed all the particulars of the countenance, form, and dress 
of the apparition, and, at his express request, I had to con- 
duct him to her protrait. As soon as he saw it, he turned 
pale, and almost sank to the floor, muttering, ‘It is she! She 
looked exactly like that when she appeared to me ! Her ap- 
parition, doubtless, indicated my impending death!’ His 
officers tried to dissuade him from this belief, but he adhered 
to his conviction, and left the palace .that very night in order 
to establish his headquarters at the ‘Fantaisie,’ the king’s lit- 
tle villa near the city. On the following morning General 
d’Espagne sent a large detachment of soldiers to this palace; 
they had to open the floor under the direction of their officers, 
and take down the wall-paper, in order to see whether there 
were any secret trap-doors or hidden entrances.* But they 
found nothing, for the White Lady needs no theatrical ap- 
paratus; she goes where she pleases, and walls and locked 
doors open to her. General d’Espagne, however, was unable 
to overcome his horror. He left Baireuth on the following 
day, and when he rode out of the gate he said, ‘I heard my 
own death-knell here at Baireuth. 1 shall soon die!’ ” 

“ And he really died shortly after, for he was killed at the 
battle of Aspen,” f said Napoleon to himself, staring gloomily 
into the fire. A pause ensued ; suddenly the emperor rose. 
“It is all right,” he said. “Go! Your story of the White 
Lady was quite entertaining. I hope she will keep quiet now. 
Go! — And you, too, Roustan! I will afterward call you!” 
Long after the two had withdrawn, the emperor walked slowly 
up and down the room. He stood at length in front of the 
fireplace, and stared moodily into the blazing flames. His 
face was pale and gloomy. “ Foolish stories, which no man of 
sense can believe ! but which, nevertheless, are fulfilled now 
and then,” he added, in a lower voice. “ Was it not pre- 
dicted to Josephine that she would become an empress; and 

* Vide Minutoii, “The White Lady,” p. 17. 

t Ibid., p. 17. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


31 


that not death, but a woman, would hurl her from the 
throne? The prophecy was fulfilled! Poor Josephine! I 
had to desert you, and, at your lonely palace of Malmaison, 
you are perhaps praying for me at this hour, because you 
know I am about to brave new dangers. Poor Josephine ! — 
you were my good angel, and, since you are no longer at my 
side — no matter!” the emperor interrupted himself; “ I will 
retire to rest.” He advanced several steps toward the door 
leading into his bedroom, where Roustan and Constant were 
waiting for him, but stopping said, “No, I will first arrange 
my plans, and fight my decisive battles with the Emperor 
Alexander.” He returned with rapid steps to the table cov- 
ered with maps, and resumed his seat in the easy-chair. The 
tapers were burning dimly; the flames in the fireplace 
flickered, shedding a dark-red lustre on the marble face of the 
emperor, who, bending over the map, sat motionless. Per- 
haps it was the heat, or the profound silence, that lulled him 
to sleep. His head fell back into the chair, and his eyes 
closed. The emperor slept, but his sleep was not csrim, and 
his features, which when awake were so firm and motionless, 
were restless, and expressive of various emotions. Once he 
exclaimed in a tender voice, “My father! Do you at last 
come to me? Oh, welcome, father!” And a joyous expres- 
sion overspread the countenance of the sleeper; but it soon 
faded away, and he appeared angry, and his lips quivered. 
“No, no,” he said, with a faltering tongue, impeded by sleep, 
“ no, father, you are mistaken ! my luck does not resemble the 
changing seasons; I am not yet in autumn, when the fruits 
drop from the trees and winter is at hand.” He paused 
again, and his face assumed the expression of an attentive 
listener. “What!” he then exclaimed in a loud voice, “you 
say my family will leave me, and betray me in adversity? 
No, that is impossible, I have lavished kindnesses on them, 
I — ” He paused, and seemed to listen again. “Ah,” he ex- 
claimed, after a short interval, starting violently, “that is 
too much! All Europe is unable to overthrow me. My 
name is more powerful than Fate!” 

Awakened, perhaps, by the loud sound of his own voice, he 
opened his eyes and looked around uneasily. “Ah,” he said, 
putting his hand on his moist forehead, “what a terrible 
dream it was! My father stood before me, and predicted 
what would befall me. He prophesied my ruin! He cau- 
tioned me against my relatives, and the ingratitude of my 


32 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


marshals!* It is the second time that this is predicted to 
me, and just as I now saw and heard my father in my dream, 
the old sorceress spoke to me by the pyramids of Egypt.” 
And the emperor, absorbed in his reflections, muttered in a 
hollow voice: “ ‘You will have two wives,’ said the Egyptian 
sorceress to me; ‘your first wife you will unjustly desert. 
Your second wife will bear you a son, but your misfortunes 
will nevertheless begin with her. You will soon cease to be 
prosperous and powerful. All your hopes will be disappointed ; 
you will be forcibly expelled, and cast upon a foreign soil, 
hemmed in by mountains and the sky. Beware of your rela- 
tives! Your own blood will revolt against you !’ f Nonsense,” 
exclaimed the emperor, quickly raising his head; “all this is 
folly. The palace, with its weird traditions, has infected me, 
and I scent ghosts in the air, and transform my dreams into 
prophecies. I will retire!” 

For the second time he approached the door of the bed- 
room, but suddenly recoiled and stood with dilated eyes. In 
front of it appeared a tall female figure, her arms spread out 
before the door, as if she wished to prevent the emperor from 
passing out. A long white dress covered her slender form, a 
black veil concealed her bosom and her erect head ; but behind 
the transparent tissue of the veil was a pale, beautiful face, 
the eyes of which were flashing like swords’ points. Breath- 
less with horror, he fixed his eyes steadfastly on the apparition, 
that approached him now with uplifted arms. Trembling in 
spite of himself, he drew back, and, putting his hand on the 
back of the easy-chair, gazed searchingly at the approaching 
figure. 

“ You dare set your foot into the house of the Hohenzol- 
'lerns?” asked the spectre in a hollow, menacing voice. “ You 
come hither to disturb the repose of the dead? Flee, auda- 
cious man — flee, for destruction is pursuing you; it will seize 
and destroy you! Your last hour has come! Prepare to 
stand before your Judge!” 

“Ay, you will kill me, then, beautiful lady?” asked Napo- 
leon, sneeringly. “ You will revenge the defeats I have in- 
flicted on the descendants of Burgrave Albert the Handsome, 
on the battle-fields of Jena, Eylau, and Friedland? In truth, 
I should have thought that beautiful Cunigunda of Orla- 
munde would rather welcome me as a friend, for was it not 
I who avenged her on the faithless house of Hohenzollern?” 

* “Le Normand,” vol. ii., p. 421. 

t This prophecy is historical.— Vide “Le Normand,” vol. ii., p. 487. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


33 


“ You try to mock me,” said the spectre, “ for your heart is 
filled with doubt, and your soul with pride. But beware, 
Bonaparte — beware, I tell you for the last time — your hour 
has come, and every step you advance is a step toward your 
ruin. Turn back, Bonaparte, if you intend to be saved, for 
ruin awaits you on the battle-fields of Russia! Turn back, 
for the souls of your victims cry to God for vengeance, and 
demand your blood for theirs — your punishment for the ruth- 
lessly destroyed happiness of whole nations! Bonaparte, es- 
cape from the soil of Germany, and dare no longer to set foot 
upon it, for disgraceful defeats are in store for you ! Return 
to France, and endeavor to conciliate those who are cursing 
you as a perjurer and renegade!” 

“Who are they who dare call me a perjurer and renegade?” 
asked Napoleon, hastily. 

“Who are they?” repeated the spectre, advancing a step 
toward the emperor and fixing her menacing eyes upon him. 
“ The men to whom you once vowed eternal fidelity, and 
whom you called your brethren — Philadelphians!” 

The emperor started in terror, and his cheeks turned livid. 
His features, which had hitherto had a sneering, scornful air, 
were now gloomy, and he stared with an expression of un- 
disguised fear at the lady who stood before him in an 
imposing attitude, with her arm lifted in a menacing manner. 

“The Philadelphians?” asked Napoleon, timidly. “I do 
not know them.” 

“You do!” said the spectre, solemnly. “You do know 
that the invisible ones are watching you, and will punish you 
because you have broken your oath!” 

“ I know of no oath !” 

“ Woe to you if you have forgotten it. I will repeat it to 
you ! It was in 1789, at the forest of Fontainebleau, that you 
appeared at the meeting of the brethren and requested to be 
initiated. The Philadelphians admitted you into their league 
and received your oath. Shall I repeat this oath to you?” 

“Do so if you can!” 

“You swore that never again should a freeman obey kings, 
and that death to tyrants under all titles and in all govern- 
ments is justifiable.” 

“ That was the formality of the oath of every club and secret 
society at that time,” exclaimed Napoleon, contemptuously. 

“But the Philadelphians demanded still another written 
oath of you. It read as follows: ‘I consent that my life be 


34 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


taken if I ever become reconciled to royalty. In order to 
contribute to its eradication in Europe, I will make use of 
fire and sword, and, when the society to which I belong asks 
me to do so, sacrifice even what is most precious to me. ’ You 
wrote this and affixed your name to it with your blood.” * 

“It is true, I did!” muttered Napoleon. “ I was a fool, 
dreaming, like all the others, of the possibility of a republic.” 

“ You were a believer, and have become a renegade,” ex- 
claimed the spectre, in a threatening voice. “ The invisible 
ones will judge and punish you, unless you make haste to 
conciliate them. You have forgotten that you stand under 
the yoke of the Philadelphians. The Emperor Napoleon be- 
lieves that he has power to blot out with the blood of subju- 
gated nations the words of the sacred oath which Lieutenant 
Bonaparte swore to the Philadelphians in the forest of Fon- 
tainebleau.” 

“And I have the power to do so!” exclaimed Napoleon, 
proudly. “ I stretch out my arm over Europe, and she bows 
before me.” 

“ But the Philadelphians will break your arm, and convert 
your crowns into dust, unless you make haste to conciliate 
them,” exclaimed the spectre. “Turn back, for it is yet 
time. Return to France, renounce conquests: France wants 
no more wars; she is cursing the tyrant who refuses peace to 
her and to Europe. There has been bloodshed enough. 
Take an oath at this hour that you will renounce your am- 
bition, and no longer pursue a career of crime and blood! 
Swear that you will return to France to-morrow!” 

“Never!” ejaculated Napoleon, vehemently, and coloring 
with anger. 

“ Swear that you will return, or I will kill you!” cried the 
spectre. “ I will kill you as a wolf. Swear that you will 
return !” 

“Never!” 

“Ah, you will not swear — you prefer to die, then,” and at 
a bound she was by the Emperor’s side, grasped him with iron 
hands, and threw him down on the easy-chair. “ You prefer 
to die!” she repeated wildly, tearing the black veil from her 
head and showing her face unveiled. It was livid as that of 
a corpse, the bloodless lips quivering, and her red eyes flam- 
ing with rage. 

“ You prefer to die!” exclaimed the spectre, for the third 

* “Le Normand,” vol. ii., p. 516. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


35 


time. “Well, die!” And her arms encircled Napoleon’s 
breast like iron rings, her glance seemed to pierce his face, 
her lips opened and exhibited terrible teeth, as if ready to 
tear his breast. The emperor was unable to breathe; he felt 
his strength giving way, and, with a last effort, he uttered a 
shrill cry calling for help. 

“Sire, sire, awake!” cried an anxious voice by his side. 
Napoleon started up, and violently pushed back the hand 
which touched his arm. “Who is there?” he asked, angrily. 

“Sire, it is I — Constant!” said the faithful valet de cham- 
bre. “ I heard in the antechamber your majesty’s groans and 
cries; I rushed in and saw you writhing on the easy-chair. A 
bad dream seemed to torment your majesty, and I therefore 
ventured to awaken you.” 

“And I am glad you did, Constant,” said the emperor. 
“Ah, my friend, what a terrible dream it was! The White 
Lady was here; she threw herself upon me like a tigress; she 
wanted to tear me and drink my heart’s blood.” 

“ Your majesty had once before a similar dream,” said Con- 
stant, smiling. 

“ Where — where was it?” asked Napoleon, hastily, wiping 
the cold sweat from his brow. 

“ Sire, it was at Erfurt, when the Emperor Alexander was 
there.” * 

“ Yes, I remember,” said the emperor, in a low voice. “It 
seems this bad dream returns as soon as I approach Alexan- 
der. Does Fate intend to warn me? Is he to be the wolf 
that will one day lacerate my breast? Ah, it was an awful 
dream, indeed, and even now it seems to me as really seen and 
heard.” He glanced around the gloomy room. Every thing 
was in precisely the same condition as when he had entered it. 
The maps lay undisturbed on the table before him ; the colored 
pins stood in long rows like little armies, and opposite each 
other, drawn up in line of battle. But the tapers had burned 
down, and the fire was nearly extinguished. Napoleon rose 
shudderingly from his easy-chair. “I will go to rest,” he 
said. 

Constant, taking a candlestick, preceded the emperor, and 
opened the door of the adjoining room. Fifteen minutes 
afterward Napoleon was in bed, and Constant and Roustan 
had withdrawn into the antechamber. 

But this sleep was not to be of long duration. A loud cry, 

* Constant, “MSmoires,” rol. iv., p. 79. 


36 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


littered by his master, awakened Constant, and caused him to 
rush into the bedroom. The emperor had raised himself in 
bed. “ Constant,” he said, “ it was no dream this time. The 
White Lady was here — I saw her distinctly — I had not fallen 
asleep, my eyes and all my senses were awake. I saw the tall, 
white figure, her head covered with the black veil, at the wall 
there, as though she had grown from the ground. At a 
bound she was at my bedside, and raised her hands. I 
quickly seized her and called for you. She then glided from 
my fingers and disappeared. Like General d’Espagne, I say 
there must be a trap-door somewhere in this room. Call 
Roustan, take lights, and examine the walls and the floor.” 

The valet de chambre hastened to fetch Roustan ; they took 
lights and made a thorough examination, but in vain. The 
oaken planks of the floor were firmly joined, and the dark 
velvet hangings glued to the walls. 

“Well, then, the White Lady has fooled me in another 
dream,” said the emperor. “Go! Let us sleep.” The two 
servants withdrew. 

About an hour had elapsed, when another cry, uttered by 
the emperor, called Constant back into the bedroom. Seized 
with dismay, he halted at the door. The bed was in the 
middle of the room; the table which stood beside it was up- 
set, and the night-lamp lay thrown on the floor. 

“I hope that no accident has befallen your majesty,” said 
Constant, rushing toward the emperor. 

“No,” said Napoleon. “But this accursed white spectre 
was here again. It wanted to treat me like General d’Es- 
pagne; to upset my bed and throttle me. I awoke just when 
this horrible monster of a woman pushed the bed with the 
strength of a giant into the middle of the room. I called 
for you, and she disappeared. As the White Lady apparently 
does not like several persons to be in the room, you and Rou- 
stan must remain here to-night.” 

“And, with your majesty’s leave, each of us will hold* a 
pistol in his hand, that we may fire at the apparition if it 
return.” 

“Ah, my friend, you know little of the power of spectres,” 
said Napoleon, smiling. “ When you have fired at them, they 
laugh scornfully, throw the bullet back to you and pass on 
entirely uninjured. That is their fashion. But you may 
take your pistols, and if she has still a human heart in her 
breast, she will feel some respect for it.” 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


37 


And the White Lady really seemed to have a human heart. 
Constant and Roustan, who sat on the floor beside the em- 
peror’s bed with cocked pistols, waited in vain for the return 
of the apparition. Every thing remained quiet; nothing 
stirred in the room, where the emperor, guarded by his faith- 
ful servants, now at last enjoyed repose. 

When he rose on the following morning, his face was even 
paler and gloomier than usual. He who generally on being 
dressed conversed in an affable manner with his servants, 
remained silent and grave that day, and muttered only oc- 
casionally, “ The accursed palace ! The miserable spectre- 
hole!”* 

Constant and Roustan, having finished the emperor’s toilet, 
were about leaving the room, when he called them back by a 
gesture. “ You will not mention any thing about what hap- 
pened here last night!” he said, imperiously. “If I find out 
that you disobey my order, I shall be very angry. Go!” And 
the emperor went into the Gallery of Palms in order to receive 
the reports of his suite and give the usual audiences. AVith 
a nod and a dismal look he greeted Count Munster, who in- 
quired, with the fawning smile of a true courtier, whether his 
majesty had passed an agreeable night. 

“ Your castellan, then, has not informed you of the horri- 
ble noise last night in the palace?” asked Napoleon, angrily. 
“ You ought to get better nails, count, to hang up paintings, 
so that they do not fall down. He who wants to hang any- 
body or any thing, even though it be but a painting, ought 
to have at least a substantial gallows.” 

“Sire,” faltered Count Munster, “I do not comprehend — • 
this palace — ” 

“ Is not even fit to be a gallows, for it drops those who 
have been hung in it,” exclaimed Napoleon, vehemently. 
“ It is an accursed place, and the air in it as sultry and op- 
pressive as in a rat-hole. Have the carriages brought to the 
door. Let us depart!” He did not deign the count another 
glance, and returned into the adjoining room, whither none 
but the grand marshal and his adjutants were permitted to 
follow. 

Fifteen minutes afterward, the emperor, with his numerous 
suite, left the palace of Baireuth and set out for Plauen, 
where he intended to join the Empress Maria Louisa, who 
had stopped there over night, and continue with her the jour- 

* Historical. — Vide Minutoli, “ The White Lady,’' p. 17. 


38 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ney to Dresden. The streets of Baireuth, which had pre- 
sented so animated a spectacle the day before, were at this 
early hour quiet and deserted ; all the windows were closed ; 
only here and there a wondering, inquisitive face appeared 
behind the panes and looked at the carriages that rolled 
through the streets, and at the melancholy countenance of the 
emperor, who sat in his open calash. When out of the gate, 
he turned again, and cast an angry glance on the palace, 
whose high gray walls were brightened by the morning sun. 
“An accursed old palace!” he muttered to himself. “I shall 
never spend there another night.” * And leaning back in a 
corner of the carriage he gazed in silence at the sky. 

Count Munster, however, stood inside the palace of Bai- 
reuth, at the window of the Gallery of Palms, and looked 
anxiously after the emperor. The carriages disappeared at a 
bend in the road behind the green willows, and the count 
turned to Castellan Schluter, \yho was standing behind 
him. 

“But tell me, for Heaven’s sake, Schluter,” exclaimed the 
count, “what did the emperor refer to? What happened to 
him last night?” 

“ There happened to him what will happen to all those who 
dare disquiet the White Lady of Baireuth or defy her power,” 
said Schluter, solemnly. 

“ You really believe, then, that she appeared to him?” 
asked the count, in terror. 

“ The emperor sent for me late last night, and again this 
morning. Shall I tell your excellency what it was for? The 
portrait of the White Lady, which I had put yesterday into 
the cabinet adjoining the audience-hall in the other wing of 
the palace, had walked over to this side, and, in the room 
directly above the emperor, had thrown itself down with so 
much violence, that the noise resounded through the whole 
building.” 

.“But that is altogether impossible,” exclaimed Count Mun- 
ster, in dismay. “ Why, you told me that the portrait was 
standing in the other wing of the palace, and that you had 
carefully locked all the doors.” 

“ But I told your excellency also that locks and bolts are 
unable to impede her progress, and that, when she intends to 
wander, the walls open to her, and that all obstructions give 
way. The air wafted her over to the enemy of her house, 

* Napoleon’s own words.— Vide Minutoli, p. 17. 


NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY. 


39 


and, by the thunder of her wrath, she awakened him from 
his slumber.” 

“ And that was the reason why the emperor sent for you last 
night?” 

“ Yes, I had the honor of narrating to him the history of 
the White Lady,” said Schluter, laughing scornfully. “ I did 
so, and told him also what happened here to General 
d’Espagne.” 

“ But did you not say the emperor has sent for you again 
this morning?” 

The castellan nodded. 

“ Well, what did he want again?” 

“ I had to describe to him the costume in which the White 
Lady is in the habit of walking — her dress, her veil, her 
countenance — in short, I had to tell him all about her appear - 
. ance. I proposed at last that I would have the portrait 
brought to him, that he might himself look at it; but, when 
I did so, he cast a furious glance on me, and said in an angry 
voice, ‘No, no, I do not want to see it! Let me alone with 
your doomed portrait!’ * In truth, I believe the all-powerful 
emperor was frightened, and the White Lady had paid him a 
visit. In fact, he turned quite pale!” And Schluter burst 
into loud and scornful laughter. 

Count Munster shook his head gravely, and hastened to 
leave the Gallery of Palms and the haunted palace. 

The castellan remained there and listened until the count’s 
footsteps died away. He then hurried to the rooms which 
the emperor had occupied. When he arrived at Napoleon’s 
bedroom, he pushed the bed aside, and stooped down to the 
floor, at which he looked with searching eyes. “ It is all 
right ! Nothing is to be seen !” he muttered to himself. “ The 
White Lady will yet be able often to walk here!” He burst 
into loud laughter and left the imperial apartments to return 
to his own rooms, which were situated on the ground-floor. 
“ I will now put away my dear treasures, that no uninitiated 
eye may behold them,” he said, carefully locking the door. 
“Come, my mysterious treasures! Come!” He drew from 
his bed a long white dress, a small cloak trimmed with fur, 
and a long black veil, f and while carefully folding up these 
articles, which he locked in a trunk standing under the bed, 
he sang in a loud and merry voice: 

* Historical.— Vide Minutoli, p. 17. , . _ 

t These articles, belonging to the toilet of the White Lady, were found in Schlu- 
ter’s trunk when he died, in 1820.— Vide Minutoli, p. 17. 


40 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


* “ Ein Kors\ Ihr kennt den Namen schon, 
Seit vierzehn Jahr und driiber, 

Spricht alien Nationen Hohn, 

Giebt Fiirsten— Nasenstiiber, 

Stiirzt Throne wie ein Kartenhaus 
Und treibt das Wesen gar zu Kraus, 
Nicht Bona— Malaparte ! ” t 


CHAPTER IV. 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 

Joy, happiness, and love, reigned at the court of the King 
of Saxony. Napoleon had honored the royal house of Saxony 
with a visit; he had come to Dresden to spend a few days in 
the family circle of Frederick Augustus, whom he flatteringly 
called his “cherpapa” He had also come to embrace his 
father-in-law, the Emperor of Austria, before setting out for 
Russia, and to shake hands with his ally the King of Prussia ; 
and, finally, to gather around him again his vassals, the 
princes of the Confederation of the Rhine, and, in the face of 
Europe, to receive the homage of kings, emperors, and 
princes. 

Amid the ringing of bells and the light of torches, Napo- 
leon and Maria Louisa made their entry into Dresden. The 
late hour of the night, when the imperial couple arrived, pre- 
vented the population from greeting them with cheers. But 
the good people of the Saxon capital were not to be deprived of 
the happiness of bidding Napoleon welcome, and seeing his 
beautiful young empress. The court, therefore, arranged a 
drive in open calashes on the day after; and everywhere on 
the streets through which the procession passed the people 
stood in vast crowds. The windows of the houses were 
opened, and beautiful ladies looked out of them. The im- 
perial and royal carriages made but slow headway, for thou- 
sands of excited spectators preceded them, and thousands more 
surrounding the carriages looked up with inquisitive eyes to 

* A comic song, sung in Germany in 1812. 
t A Corsican— you know his name— 

For more than fourteen years 
Has scorned the nations, to their shame, 

And pulled their princes’ ears. 

He plays sad tricks upon his foes, 

And, marching with his guards, 

He casts down kingdoms as he goes 
Like houses made of cards, 

A better name for him would be 
Not Bona, but Mala- part6 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


41 


the distinguished persons who, greeting and smiling, bowed 
to them on all sides. But the multitude were silent; not a 
cheer resounded — not a “ Vive Vempereur ” — and the praise of 
Napoleon, that was uttered by the lips of princes, lacked the 
wonted accompaniment of popular enthusiasm. 

Good-natured King Frederick Augustus felt all this as a 
rebuke administered to himself, as a reflection on his hospi- 
tality, and he looked with an expression full of uneasiness and 
affection at the emperor, who was sitting beside him. But 
Napoleon’s countenance was as calm and cold as it always was. 
Not a flash of inward anger was seen in those unfathomable 
eyes. He conversed quietly and almost smilingly with his 
consort, the Empress Maria Louisa, and did not even seem to 
notice that the people received him in silence. 

“ AVell, he shall have a most gratifying compensation at the 
theatre to-night,” said Frederick Augustus to himself. “ The 
audience will there at least receive the great Napoleon with 
enthustiastic cheers; and when, on his return, he sees all 
Dresden glittering in the illumination that is to take place, 
he will have to admit, after all, that my good Saxons, like 
their king, love and admire him.” 

King Frederick Augustus was not mistaken. — The vast and 
brilliant audience, that in the evening assembled at the royal 
theatre, received the members of the court, on their appear- 
ance, with deafening cheers; all rose from their seats and 
shouted with constantly recurring enthusiasm, “ Long live 
Napoleon i Long live the Emperor Francis! Long live our 
dear King Frederick Augustus !” The band accompanied these 
cheers, the ladies waved their bouquets, and the gentlemen 
their hats and handkerchiefs, and when this outburst sub- 
sided, hundreds of eyes were fixed on the royal box, to watch 
every motion of Napoleon’s countenance, and admire him in 
the circle of his family; for this large gathering of princes 
and kings were now his family, and the son of the Corsican 
lawyer was its head. There was the Emperor Francis of Aus- 
tria, who had arrived but a few hours before, to greet his be- 
loved son-in-law, whom he had not seen since the battle of 
Austerlitz. The emperor was accompanied by his young con- 
sort, the Empress Ludovica. Every one knew that she hated 
Napoleon; that her proud heart never could forgive him the 
humiliations which he had inflicted on Austria, and that she 
had consented only with the utmost reluctance, and with bit- 
ter tears, to the marriage of her step-daughter, the Arch- 
4 ’ 


42 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


duchess Maria Louisa, with the conqueror of Austria. And 
yet, notwithstanding her hatred, grief, and humiliated pride, 
the Empress Ludovica had likewise come to Dresden to wit- 
ness the triumph of Napoleon, to he the second lady at this 
court, and the first in the suite of the Empress Maria Louisa. 
There were the King and Queen of Westphalia, sister-in-law 
of Napoleon and daughter of the King of Wurtemberg, who 
deemed himself happy that Napoleon was a relative of his. 
There were, besides, the Grand-Duke of Wurzburg, brother 
of the Emperor Francis, and now uncle of Bonaparte; the 
Grand-Duke of Baden, Napoleon’s nephew, and the King of 
Saxony, the cher papa of Napoleon; and finally, the crowd of 
the petty German princes of the Confederation of the Rhine, 
who had eagerly hurried to Dresden in order to do homage to 
their protector, and seek after new gifts of territories and 
titles from the all-powerful master of Germany. But these 
personages formed only part of the suite ; no one paid atten- 
tion to them; they stood humbly and modestly in the back- 
ground, and only the two emperors and empresses, the Queens 
of Saxony and Westphalia, and the King of Saxony, occupied 
front seats. The King of Saxony conducted Napoleon to the 
first gilded easy-chair on the right side; to him belonged the 
seat of honor here as everywhere. He was first in the line of 
emperors and kings. By his side sat Maria Louisa, sparkling 
with diamonds, which covered her head, neck, arms, and the 
golden belt around her slender waist. Her countenance was 
joyful, and never had she feasted her eyes on her husband 
with more heart-felt pride than during this evening, when, 
sitting beside him, she eclipsed her imperial step-mother in 
the magnificence of her toilet and the splendor of her rank. 
It was only when Napoleon had taken his seat that the Em- 
peror and Empress of Austria, and all the other kings and 
princes, followed his example. The band immediately com- 
menced the overture, and the festive cantata began. On the 
stage was seen the radiant temple of the sun, surrounded by 
the brilliantly-adorned crowd of priests and priestesses. They 
raised their arms, not to the temple of the sun, but toward 
Napoleon’s box, and, amid their soul-stirring chorus, the 
high-priest stepped forth from the temple. Advancing to the 
edge of the stage, he bowed to the imperial sun, and com- 
menced singing in a powerful voice, — “ The sun rises gloriously 
on the firmament, illuminating and heating the world; but 
thou, his greater brother, thou conquerest him, and he drives 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


43 


back his car, acknowledging that, since thon art here, the 
world needs no other sun.” While the high-priest sang these 
words the temple on the stage suddenly paled, and over its 
entrance the following words appeared in large letters of 
gold : “ Di Lui men grande e men chiaro il Sole." * 

At this sight, cheers burst from all sides of the brilliantly 
decorated house; the audience rose from their seats and 
turned toward the imperial box to salute Napoleon ; the Em- 
peror of Austria, the King of Saxony x and the princes of the 
Confederation of the Rhine, joined in the applause. But 
Napoleon, to whom these cheers were addressed, did not even 
seem to notice them. He had suddenly risen and turned his 
back to the stage, regardless of the high-priest and his em- 
phatic words. Heedless of the cheers and applause, he left 
his place and hastened to the Emperor Francis, who was sit- 
ting on the left side, close to the two empresses. “ Sire,” said 
Napoleon, “ I request your majesty to exchange seats with me, 
and pardon me for erroneously taking the chair that was in- 
tended for you.” 

“No, no; it is no mistake at all,” exclaimed the Emperor 
Francis, hastily. “ It is all right as it is, and your majesty 
must stay there, for that easy-chair is the seat of honor.” 

“ That is precisely the reason why it should be occupied by 
your majesty, the august Emperor of Austria, my beloved and 
revered father-in-law,” said Napoleon, bowing his head lower 
than he had ever before done to any prince in the world. 
“ Come, sire, permit me to conduct you to the seat that is due 
to you alone.” With gentle violence he took the emperor’s 
hand and conducted him to the seat at the right side of Maria 
Louisa. 

“My dear Louisa,” he said, turning to his consort, “ I re- 
nounce the happiness of sitting beside you, because this seat 
is due to the head of our family, the father of my consort, 
the grandfather of my son. You may embrace the oppor- 
tunity to tell our dear papa all about the little King of Rome. ” 
He greeted Maria Louisa with a beaming smile, and then re- 
paired to the seat which the Emperor Francis had occupied, 
at the left side of the Empress Ludovica. The smile was 
still on his face; he sat down on this chair, and, turning to 
the empress, his mother-in-law, asked her, almost humbly, if 
she would grant him the happiness of sitting by her side. 

* “ Less great and brilliant than he is the sun. ’ 1 The author of this cantata, per- 
formed in honor of Napoleon, was Orlandi, an Italian ; Morlacchi had composed 
the music. 


44 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Ludovica felt flattered ; tlie gentle, suppliant voice of the 
emperor, his smile, and flashing eyes, exerted their wonted 
charm upon her. She had armed her heart against the arro- 
gant master of the world, but, before the kind and almost 
humble bearing of Napoleon, her arms sank to the ground, 
and she who had hitherto felt nothing but hatred against 
him, regarded him now with mingled astonishment and 
admiration. 

Napoleon seemed to have read the depths of her heart, for 
his face grew even milder, and his smile more fascinating. 
“Your majesty has hated me intensely, I suppose?” he asked, 
in a low voice. “ Oh, do not deny it; I have been portrayed 
to you in very repulsive colors?” 

Ludovica looked at him admiringly. “ I must confess, 
sire,” she said, “ that not onQ of the portraits of your majesty 
which I have seen, is like you.” 

“Oh, I believe so,” exclaimed Napoleon, hastily; “they 
have always painted me too dark, and the portraits shown to 
your majesty doubtless have been of that description; but be- 
fore you, madame, the Moor would like to wash his face, and 
I wish you could see me painted less repulsively.” 

“Sire,” said the empress, smiling, “did we not see but a 
few minutes since that your image is even more radiant than 
the sun?” 

“Ah, those are silly coups de theatre ,” exclaimed Napoleon. 
“ It is no great honor, indeed, to surpass the splendor of a sun 
made out of paper. If the lamplighter had approached too 
close to it it would have burned, while I think that I can 
stand in fire without running the risk of perishing. How- 
ever, the fire of anger flashing from your eyes, madame, would 
annihilate me, and I pray you, therefore, to have mercy on 
me. Pray, let us be frank. Why do you hate me?” He 
looked at the empress with so mild and smiling an expression, 
that she felt confused by it, and a faint blush suffused her 
beautiful face. 

“ No,” she said, in a low voice, “who tells you that? How 
would it be possible to hate the man to whom all Europe bows 
in admiration?” 

“ I have put my foot on the neck of Europe ; I have tamed 
the wild horse, and it acknowledges me as its master,” said 
Napoleon, proudly. “ But is that a reason why you should 
hate me? Let all lie in the dust before me, but Austria shall 
stand erect by my side, for the Emperor of Austria is my 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


45 


father-in-law, and though I do not venture to say that the 
beautiful young Empress of Austria is my mother-in-law, I 
may be allowed to say that she is the mother of my consort, 
and that I admire and esteem her with all my heart. Austria 
has nothing to fear, so long as she is friendly toward me. She 
shall share my triumphs; and, when at last all Europe is 
prostrate, the Emperors of France and Austria will stand side 
by side, and divide the world between them.” 

“ And one will take his Herculaneum, and the other his 
Pompeii,” said the empress, sarcastically. 

“ Ah, you mean to say that the world we shall have con- 
quered will consist only of ruined cities and dead subjects?” 
asked Napoleon, gloomily. 

“ Sire,” said Ludovica, gently, “ I mean that when Vesuvius 
shows itself to the wondering world in its whole majesty and 
beauty, it cannot prevent the molten lava, which rises from 
its crater, as a natural consequence, from rushing down its 
sides, and spreading everywhere death and destruction.” 

“ Well,” exclaimed Napoleon, smiling, “ if your simile is cor- 
rect, the molten lava will soon inundate Russia, and carry 
terror, death, and destruction into the empire of the arrogant 
czar.” 

“Ah, sire,” said Ludovica, gravely, “Russia is so very cold 
that I believe even the fires of Vesuvius would be extinguished 
there, the molten lava would freeze, or, flowing back, injure 
Vesuvius itself.” 

“Oh, no, madame,” exclaimed Napoleon, hastily, “Vesu- 
vius will not be extinguished, for divine fire is burning in its 
heart.” 

“ And Russia will not thaw, for it is a divine frost that 
freezes every thing approaching her,” said Ludovica, gently. 

Napoleon cast on her one of his quick, angry glances. 
“Madame,” he said, “I — ” 

At this moment the whole audience burst into loud and 
enthusiastic cheers, and shouted, “ Long live the emperor ! 
Long live the hero who conquers the world!” 

Napoleon interrupted himself, and turned his eyes toward 
the stage. The temple of the sun was still dark, but a new 
brilliant light was beaming over it; in its middle was the 
word “ Napoleon ” in large flaming letters, which illumined 
the whole scene. In this sight the audience were unable to 
restrain their delight, and burst into the deafening cheers 
which had interrupted Napoleon’s words. 


4G 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


The King of Saxony was evidently pleased with this out- 
burst of enthusiasm. “Now,” he thought, “ the great Napo- 
leon will forget the disagreeable scene of this morning. The 
people then were silent, and admired, but to-night they have 
recovered their speech; and when we leave the theatre, and 
behold the whole city in a flood of light, Napoleon will feel 
convinced that my subjects love him sincerely. — But what is 
that? The emperor rises. Does he intend already to leave 
the theatre?” And he hastened to Napoleon, who advanced 
toward him. “Let us leave, sire,” he said. “These flatter- 
ies are more than enough. You see the sun has set here.” 

“But he is still among us, sire,” said Frederick Augustus. 
“ And if it has grown dark on the stage, the reason is simply, 
that all the light now fills the streets of Dresden, to prove to 
the great Napoleon that there is no night where he is — that 
his presence turns darkness into light, and night into day.” 

“Ah,” said Napoleon, in a tired, wearied tone, “an illumi- 
nation then has been arranged?” 

“ Sire, my people, as well as I, cannot find words to utter to 
your majesty the transports with which your visit has filled 
our hearts, and I hope you will see this in the lights shining 
at every window. I request your majesty not to return 
directly to the palace, but first ride through the city.” 

Napoleon nodded assent. “Let us do so, clter papa” he 
said; “let us take a look at your illumination!” He offered 
his arm to Maria Louisa, and left the box with her. The 
crowd of kings, dukes, and princes, followed him in haste. 

As the King of Saxony descended the staircase with his 
consort, Chamberlain von Planitz met him with a pale and 
frightened face. 

“Well,” asked the king, “I suppose the illumination has 
already commenced? It must be a splendid spectacle!” 

“ Your majesty,” said the chamberlain, in a low voice, “the 
royal palace and the public buildings are brilliantly lit up, 
but the houses of the citizens are dark, and the streets are 
deserted.” 

“ But,” exclaimed the king, in dismay, “ did not the police 
command the citizens to illuminate their houses?” 

“Yes, your majesty, the police have done their duty.” 

“And yet — ” 

“And yet, sire, all the houses are dark. It is as if the 
whole population had conspired to disobey the order. The 
police have again given orders ; they received everywhere the 


NAPOLEON AT DRESDEN. 


47 


same reply, that neither oil nor candles were to be had any 
where.” 

“ The stubborn people ought to have been told that they 
would be punished for this.” 

“ The police tried this, too, your majesty, threatening that 
every citizen who did not obey should be fined a dollar, and 
all declared their readiness to pay rather than illuminate.” 

“That is open rebellion,” said the king, sighing. “The 
streets, then, are dark?” 

“ Yes, sire.” 

“ Then we must not take the intended ride through the 
city,” exclaimed the king, anxiously. “Make haste, baron, 
countermand the ride, and — ” 

At this moment the first carriage rolled from the portal. 
“ It is too late,” groaned the king. “ The emperor has already 
started. He will witness our humiliation.” 

“Possibly, he may drive immediately to the palace,” said 
the queen. “ He seemed tired and exhausted — ” 

“No, no,” said the king, “he consented to see the illumi- 
ation, and the outriders are instructed accordingly. I myself 
marked out the route. But, an expedient occurs to me. 
Quick, Baron von Planitz! Go to the outrider of my car- 
riage. Tell him to follow the imperial carriage as fast as he 
can ride. He must overtake it, though his horse die under 
him. He must order the driver to turn and pass down Au- 
gustus Street to the Linden, and then slowly across the 
square, to the palace. Make haste!” The chamberlain has- 
tened to carry out the king’s orders. 

“And we?” asked the queen — “shall we also follow him?” 

“No, we return to the palace, and will wait for him there. 
The others, of course, will follow the imperial carriage, and I 
hope we shall soon see the two emperors again.” Profoundly 
sighing, the king conducted his consort to the carriage, and 
drove with her toward the palace. A flood of light beamed 
upon them in the palace square. Huge pillars, covered with 
festoons of colored lamps, stood in front of the long palace 
bridge, and were connected with each other by brilliant 
girandoles. Four similar pillars were in front of the main 
portal of the Catholic church at the entrance of Augustus 
Street. Around the square altars were erected, on which 
naphtha was burning. On the royal palace the Austrian and 
French coats-of-arms displayed all their colors with heraldic 
accuracy. It was a dazzling spectacle, and even the king 


48 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


himself rejoiced at the beautiful and imposing effect. “ I 
think,” he said, pointing to the pillars, “I think this will be 
agreeable to him.” 

“Yes, but I am afraid that will be disagreeable to him,” 
said the queen, pointing to the Neustadt, lying dark on the 
othqr side of the Elbe. 

“Heaven grant that he may not see it! : ’ said the king, 
sighing; he then leaned back and closed his eyes until they 
halted in front of the portal. “ I shall remain here until the 
emperors arrive,” he added, bowing to his consort. With 
anxious eyes he gazed upon the place, and listened in sus- 
pense to any distant noise. After waiting fifteen minutes, 
the roll of approaching wheels was heard, and now they thun- 
dered across the square and entered the palace portal. King 
Frederick Augustus, hat' in hand, stepped up with a most 
submissive air to the first carriage, the door of which was just 
opened by lackeys in gorgeous liveries. He lifted the young 
empress Maria Louisa out, and then offered his hand almost 
timidly to Napoleon to assist him also. With a quick wave 
of his hand he refused assistance, and alighted. Anger was 
burning in his eyes. 

“ We left the theatre at an earlier hour than the citizens 
expected,” said the king, timidly, “and that is the reason why 
the illumination has not yet generally commenced.” 

“Oh, no,” said Napoleon, in a petulant voice; “ your 
illumination is magnificent; as to the inhabitants of Dresden, 
it seems to me, they are the children of the sun that we saw 
at the theatre — their lights have gone out.” And the em- 
peror, coldly bowing to the king, and offering his arm to his 
consort, walked with her into the palace. 

“ He is not in good humor,” muttered Frederick Augustus, 
in dismay. Oh, he is incensed at me!” 

At this moment the Emperor Francis, with his consort, 
met him. “A very pretty idea,” said the emperor, with a 
laughing face, “to unite the coats-of-arms of Austria and 
France in such a blaze of variegated light! It gladdens one’s 
heart to behold them. I thank your majesty for having thus 
exhibited my coat-of-arms. It looks admirably by the side of 
that of France.” 


NAPOLEON’S HIGH-BORN ANCESTORS. 


49 


CHAPTER V. 
napoleon’s high-born ancestors. 

A new guest had arrived at Dresden to clo homage to Na- 
poleon — the King of Prussia, accompanied by the young 
crown prince, and Chancellor von Hardenberg. The two in- 
imical friends, the Emperor of France and the King of 
Prussia, met for the first time at the rooms of the Queen of 
Saxony, and shook hands with forced kindness. They ex- 
changed but a few words, when Napoleon Avithdrew, inviting 
the king to participate in the gala dinner and ball to take 
place that day. The king accepted the invitation with a 
bow, without replying a word, and repaired to the Marcolini 
palace, where quarters had been provided for him and his 
suite. Not a member of the royal family deemed it necessary 
to accompany him. He went away quietly and alone. His 
arrival had not been greeted, like that of Napoleon and the 
Emperor of Austria, with ringing of bells and cannon salutes, 
nor had the soldiers formed in line on both sides of the streets 
through which he passed on entering the city. The court 
had not shown any attention to him, but allowed him to make 
his entry into Dresden without any display whatever. 

But if the court thought they might with impunity violate 
the rules of etiquette because Frederick William was unfortu- 
nate, the people indemnified him for this neglect, and honored 
him. Thousands hurried out of the gate to cheer him on his 
arrival, and escorted him amid the most enthusiastic acclama- 
tions to the royal palace. When he left it again, the crowd 
followed him to the Marcolini palace, and cheered so long in 
front of it that the king appeared on the balcony. It is true, 
the anterooms of the king were deserted ; no smiling cour- 
tiers’ faces, no chamberlains adorned with glittering orders, no 
dignitaries, no marshals, princes, or dukes, were there; but 
below in the street was his real anteroom — there his devoted 
courtiers were waiting for their royal master, looking up to 
his windows, and longing for his coming. The smiles with 
which they greeted Frederick William were no parasites’ 
smiles, and the love beaming from those countless eyes was 
faithful and true. 

Beneath the residence of Napoloen the people did not stand, 


50 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


as usual, in silent curiosity staring at the windows } behind 
which from time to time the pale face of the emperor showed 
itself. The street was empty — those who formerly stood there 
were now joyously thronging in front of the King of Prussia’s 
quarters; they had recovered their voices, and often cheered 
in honor of Frederick William III. 

The anterooms of Napoleon indeed presented an animated 
spectacle. A brilliant crowd filled them at an early hour; 
there were generals and marshals, the princes of the Con- 
federation of the Rhine, the dukes, princes, and kings of 
Germany, whom Napoleon had newly created — all longing for 
an audience, in order to wrest from Napoleon’s munificence a 
province belonging to a neighbor, a title, or a prominent 
office. Germany was in the hands of Napoleon, and to bow 
the lower to him was to be raised the higher. In these rooms 
of the emperor there was the unwonted spectacle of German 
sovereigns soliciting instead of granting favors; and, instead 
of being surrounded by, were themselves courtiers, who, in 
the most submissive manner, sought the intercession of adju- 
tants and chamberlains, to procure admission to the imperial 
presence and favor. 

And all these courtiers gave vent to their love and admira- 
tion for Napoleon in terms of the most extravagant praise. 
They spoke with prophetic ecstasy of the fresh laurels that 
Napoleon was to bind upon his brow, and of Alexander’s mad- 
ness to resist a conqueror destined to make new triumphs for 
the glory of France and the humiliation of Russia. Yet, 
when two or three of these expectant gentlemen stood in some 
window-niche, and believed themselves beyond the reach of 
indiscreet ears, they dared to ask each other, in a low and 
anxious tone, whether all this splendor would not soon vanish 
as a meteor — whether one might not see the aurora of a new 
day dawning — whether the battles into which Napoleon was 
about to plunge so recklessly would not result in the downfall 
of him whom they publicly extolled, but secretly cursed. 
But, to these whispered questions the brilliant anterooms, the 
marshals of the empire, crowned with victory, the dukes and 
princes, the court of Napoleon, composed of the sovereigns of 
Germany, made a triumphant reply. Secret hope could 
hardly survive in the recollection of the greatness and invari- 
able good fortune of Napoleon, and they who desired the 
humiliation of the conqueror yielded to submission. Return- 
ing to the crowd of princely courtiers, they renewed their 


NAPOLEON’S HIGH-BORN ANCESTORS. 


51 


enthusiasm, and joined in the plaudits of Napoleon’s ad- 
mirers. 

When the emperor, with Maria Louisa, entered the room, 
all pressed forward, anxious to receive a glance, a smile, or 
a pleasant salutation. Rank and etiquette were overlooked ; 
there was but one master, one sovereign, to whom all were doing 
homage. Rushing toward him, each one tried to outstrip the 
other; and many a high dignitary, prime minister, prince, 
duke, or king, was pushed aside by an inferior. Napoleon 
stood in the centre of the room, uttering words of condescend- 
ing affability to the fortunate men nearest him. 

Suddenly cheers resounded in the streets, rattling the 
window-panes. Napoleon looked in the direction of the 
windows. “ What is that?” he asked, turning to the Duke de 
Bassano. 

“ Sire,” said the duke, “ the good people of Dresden are im- 
patient to see their imperial majesties of France, and pay 
them their respects.” 

More deafening shouts were heard. Napoleon smiled, and 
hastily walking with his consort through the circle of the 
courtiers stepped to the open window. He frowned as he 
looked down. An immense crowd had gathered below, but 
their faces were not turned toward the windows of the royal 
palace, and their cheers were not intended for the emperor. 
The multitude crossed the square, and in their midst drove 
slowly an open carriage surrounded by the enthusiastic people. 
In this carriage sat the King of Prussia, to whom were given 
the loud greetings mistaken by Napoleon. He understood it 
at a glance, and, stepping back from the window with the 
empress, turned to Grand-Marshal Duroc, who was standing 
by his side. “See that the populace go home,” he said, has- 
tily, “ and that they no longer disturb the people of the city 
by indecent and riotous proceedings. I do not wish to hear 
any more yelling near the palace!” 

Duroc bowed, and withdrew to instruct the police officers 
not to tolerate any similar conduct on the part of the citizens. 
The emperor meanwhile turned to Duke Augustus of Gotha, 
who had just succeeded in penetrating through the ranks of 
courtiers, with his broad shoulders and colossal form. 

“Ah, you are back again, duke?” asked the emperor, 
kindly. “ Did you attend thoroughly to your government 
affairs?” 

“ I did, sire,” said the duke, nearly bowing to the ground, 


52 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and then seizing the emperor’s hand to press it to his 
lips. 

“ Well, I must confess that yon accomplished your task 
with great rapidity. Was it not three days since you took 
leave of us to go to Gotha?” 

“ Yes, sire, I set out three days ago.” 

“And you are back already! You performed the trip and 
your official business in so short a time ! How large is your 
duchy, then?” 

“Sire,” said the Duke of Gotha, quickly, “it is as large as 
your majesty commands it to be.” * 

Napoleon’s smile was reflected in the faces of those seeking 
his favors. 

At this moment the dooys of the outer anteroom opened, 
and on the threshold appeared the grave and dignified form of 
King Frederick William. The courtiers, with ah impatient 
expression, receded anxiously, as though afraid of contact with 
this unfortunate man, who had no territories, no riches, no 
honors to offer them, but had come as a vassal to pacify the 
wrath of Napoleon, and save at least a remnant of his king- 
dom. But the king did not come with craven heart; he did 
not hasten his approach to the emperor with fawning sub- 
missiveness, but slowly, with his head proudly erect, and a 
grave air. 

Napoleon received him with a haughty nod. “Your 
majesty, you must have had a troublesome drive from your 
quarters to the royal palace,” he said harshly. “I noticed 
that the gaping crowd were thronging about your carriage 
and annoying you.” 

“Pardon me, sire,” said the king, “the people did not 
annoy me. They did me the honor of bidding me welcome, 
and this was the more generous, as I am not one of those who 
are favored by Fortune. But the German people yield some- 
times to generous impulse, and show thereby how little they 
know. of the etiquette and sagacity of courtiers.” 

While uttering these words, the king glanced with his 
clear, calm eyes — in which a slightly sarcastic expression was 
to be seen — at the multitude of brilliantly adorned and dis- 
tinguished gentlemen who tried to get as far as possible from 
him. Napoleon smiled. He himself despised sycophancy 
sufficiently to be pleased with this rebuke. But his severe 
look returned, and he gazed with some indignation upon the 

* This reply is historical. 


NAPOLEON’S HIGH-BORN ANCESTORS. 


53 


tall form of the King of Prussia. He noticed that, while 
himself appeared in silk stockings and buckled shoes, the king 
had come in long trousers and boots. 

“ Your majesty, doubtless, was not informed that there 
would be a ball after the banquet?” asked Napoleon, pointing 
to the king’s boots. 

“ I was, sire, but since the death of my consort I have not 
danced.” 

“But etiquette,” exclaimed Napoleon, vehemently, “eti- 
quette is — ” 

“ Sire,” interrupted the king, in a calm and dignified tone, 
“ etiquette is intended for parasites and people of the court, 
and it is very proper for them to adhere to it. But a sover- 
eign king, I should think, has a right to diregard it, and fol- 
low the promptings of his own inclinations.” 

The door of the anteroom opened again, and the grand 
marshal appeared to announce dinner. The emperor offered 
his arm to Maria Louisa, preceded by the high dignitaries and 
the officers of his household, and followed by the swarm of 
princes and gentlemen of the courts. The King of Prussia, 
taking the place to which his rank entitled him, walked on 
the other side of the empress, and entered the dining-hall at 
the same time with Napoleon, amid the notes of the imperial 
band. Napoleon walked with his consort to his guests, who 
were waiting for him in the centre of the hall — the Emperor 
and Empress of Austria, and the King and Queen of Saxony. 

The banquet was a distinguished one, and the French cooks 
of Napoleon’s household had displayed all their culinary skill 
to satisfy the palate of even the most fastidious epicures. 
Napoleon, as usual, gave his guests but little time to revel in 
the delicacies prepared for them. Scarcely half an hour had 
elapsed since the commencement of the dinner, when he rose, 
and thereby gave the signal that the gala-dinner was at an 
end. 

The Emperor Francis, who was almost always in good 
humor, could not refrain from frowning, and, after offering 
his arm to his consort to conduct her to the saloon, where 
coffee wa,s to be served, he muttered, “I do not know, but it 
seems to me that the Emperor Napoleon eats too little.” 

“ And yet he has so hearty an appetite, that he is able to 
swallow and digest the territories of sovereigns,” whispered 
the Empress Ludovica, with a sneer. “ He is now as satisfied 
as an anaconda after devouring an ox.” 


54 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Yes, but we poor mortals are still hungry,” said Francis, 
thoughtfully. “ It does not do us any good that his appetite 
is satisfied.” 

“ There will be a day when our hunger shall be appeased, 
and he starve,” said the empress. 

“Hush!” whispered Francis, “not a word against him! 
He is my son-in-law, Ludovica. And, besides, he has an ap- 
petite strong enough yet to swallow another ox.” 

“He will get it in Russia, I suppose?” said Ludovica, 
quickly. 

“ Yes,” said Francis. “ He explained his whole plan to me 
and Metternich for over an hour to-day, and proved to us that 
four weeks hence there would be no Russian emperor; that 
Russia would fall to ruins and decay. He dwelt on a great 
many other things, and told us of gigantic schemes, which, to 
tell the truth, I did not comprehend very well. Let me con- 
fess to you,” he whispered, standing near the door of the 
reception-room, “ that his words almost frightened me. His 
heart may be all right, but as to his head, I am afraid there is 
something wrong about it.” * 

Ludovica smiled. “Ho you believe, then, my husband, 
that he has really a heart?” she asked. “ But as to his head, 
the princes and nations of Europe, I hope, will soon find an 
opportunity to set it right.” 

“Hush!” said Francis again; “he is my son-in-law.” 

“ And because he is your son-in-law, your majesty should 
hesitate no longer to deliver to him, or rather to his consort, 
the precious gift which you ordered for her, and which arrived 
to-day.” 

“It is true,” exclaimed Francis. “Let us at once present 
the gift to Maria Louisa.” 

He entered the saloon and hastily approached his daughter, 
who stood with Napoleon in the centre of the room, and was 
just handing him a cup of coffee, to which she' herself had 
added sugar and cream, f 

“ Louisa,” said Francis, kindly nodding as he approached 
her, “ I have a little gift for you, which I hope will be accept- 
able. I ordered it several months since, but when we set out 
from Vienna it was not ready. To-day, however, it has ar- 
rived, and, as we are now in a family circle, I may as well 

* The emperor’s own words.— Vide Hormayer’s “Lebensbilder, ” vol. iii. 

t The Empress Josephine, in her tender care for Napoleon, who frequently for- 
got to take his coffee, was in the habit of preparing a cup for him after dinner, 
and presenting it to him, Maria Louisa had adopted Josephine’s habit. 


NAPOLEON’S HIGH-BORN ANCESTORS. 


55 


present it to you. That is to say,” added the emperor, bow- 
ing to Napoleon, “if your majesty permits me to do so.” 

“ Your majesty was right in saying that we are here a 
family circle,” said Napoleon, smiling; “and as the father is 
always the head and master, I have nothing to permit, but 
only to pray that your majesty may make what present your 
love has chosen for her.” 

“And I assure you, father,” exclaimed Maria Louisa, smil- 
ing, “ I am as anxious to know what you have for me as I was 
at the time when I was a little archduchess, and when your 
majesty promised me a surprise. Let me, therefore, see your 
gift.” 

Francis smiled, and, walking to the open door of the ad- 
joining room (where the dukes, who did not belong to the 
imperial family, the princes, the marshals, and courtiers, were 
assembled), made a sign to one of the gentlemen, who stood 
near the door. The latter immediately left the room, and 
returned after a few minutes with an oblong, narrow some- 
thing, carefully wrapped in a piece of gold brocatel, which he 
presented to the emperor with a respectful bow. Francis took 
it hastily, and approached Maria Louisa with a solemn air. 
“Here, Louisa,” he said, kindly, “here is my present. It 
will show you what, it is true, every day proves to admiring 
Europe, namely, that genuine royal blood is flowing in the 
veins of your husband.” 

Maria Louisa opened the covering with inquisitive im- 
patience, and there appeared under it a golden box, orna- 
mented with diamonds and pearls. “ What magnificent 
diamonds!” she exclaimed. “What skilful work!” said Na- 
poleon, smiling. 

“The box was made by Benvenuto Cellini,” said Francis; 
“ it was highly prized by my lamented father, the Emperor 
Leopold, who brought it from Florence to Vienna. But that 
is not the principal thing — the contents are more important. 
Here is the key, Louisa; open the box!” He handed her a 
golden key, and Maria Louisa applied it to the key-hole, 
adorned with large oriental turquoises. Around her stood 
the Emperor and Empress of Austria, the King and Queen of 
Saxony, the King of Prussia, and the Grand-duke of Wurz- 
burg; Napoleon was close beside her. All eyes were expres- 
sive of curiosity and suspense. Nothing was there but a roll 
of parchment. Maria Louisa unfolded it. “A pedigree!” 
she exclaimed, wonderingly. 


56 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Yes, a pedigree,” said the Emperor Francis, merrily, “ but 
a very precious and beautiful one, which you may put into 
the cradle of the little King of Rome, and from which he 
may learn his letters. Sire,” he then added, turning to Na- 
poleon, “your majesty must allow me to add another jewel to 
your imperial crown. I mean, this pedigree. It proves 
irrefutably that your majesty is the descendant of a glorious 
old sovereign family, which ruled over Treviso during the 
middle ages. Signor Giacamonte, the most renowned gene- 
alogist in all Italy, devoted himself, at my request, for a 
whole year to this study, and succeeded in proving that the 
Bonaparte family is of ancient and sovereign origin.” 

“That is a splendid discovery,” exclaimed Maria Louisa, 
with delight; “my little King of Rome, consequently, has a 
very respectable number of distinguished ancestors?” 

“ More than fifty!” exclaimed her father, proudly. “ Look 
here; this is the founder of the whole family, the Huca di 
Buon et Malaparte; he lived in the twelfth century.” 

He pointed to the genealogical trunk of the beautifully 
painted and ornamented pedigree, of which Maria Louisa held 
the lower end, while the King and Queen of Saxony oblig- 
ingly took hold of the upper end. The King of Prussia stood 
beside them and witnessed this strange scene with a scarcely 
perceptible smile, while the Empress Ludovica looked with 
undisguised scorn into the joy-excited countenance of her 
step-daughter. Napoleon surveyed the faces of all present 
with a rapid glance, and an expression of sublime pride over- 
spread his countenance. 

“Look,” exclaimed the Emperor Francis, bending over the 
pedigree, “there is his name! There is the founder of Na- 
poleon’s family.” 

At this moment Napoleon laid his hand gently on his shoul- 
der. “ Oh, no,” he said, “the founder of that family stands 
here.” 

“Where, then?” asked Francis, eagerly, still bending over 
and looking for the name. 

“ If your majesty desires to see him, you must be so kind as 
to avert your eyes from that piece of parchment, and turn 
them toward me,” said Napoleon, raising his voice. 

Francis looked up and gazed wonderingly upon his son-in- 
law. Napoleon smiled ; it was a triumphant smile. “ I, and 
I alone, am the founder of Napoleon’s family,” he said, slowly 
and solemnly. “I am the ancestor of those who bear my 


NAPOLEON’S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 


57 


name. The King of Rome needs no other, unless it he that 
your majesty should count every victory which his father 
gained an ancestor, and compose his pedigree from the laurels I 
have obtained in Europe and Africa. My son has a right to de- 
spise ancestors invisible in the darkness of by-gone centuries, 
whom history does not mention, while the vainest genealogy 
can scarcely discover that they lived and died. My grandsons 
and great-grandsons need not seek the name of the founder of 
their family on decayed parchments and confused pedigrees; 
they only need read the pages of history. They will also find 
it at night in the marshalled host of heaven, where twinkles 
a star which science names Napoleon. I think, sire, that star 
will never set; it will illuminate the path of your grandson 
better than the lamp flickering in the tombs of mouldering 
ancestors.” 

Maria Louisa at the first words of Napoleon withdrew her 
hands from the pedigree, and stood half sullen and ashamed 
by the side of her husband. The royal couple of Saxony has- 
tened to roll up the pedigree as quickly as possible, and put 
it back into the golden box. 

Napoleon offered his arm to his consort. “ Come, ma- 
dame,” he said, “let us go to the ball-room.” While he was 
walking away with her, the Emperor Francis turned to Lu- 
dovica, and, tapping his forehead, whispered cautiously, “ I 
was right! There is something wrong in Napoleon’s head.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

NAPOLEON’S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 

The brilliant court ball ended, and Napoleon retired to his 
cabinet. He seemed more careworn than he had ever allowed 
any of his attendants to notice. He was slowly walking his 
room, casting an occasional glance on the map marked with 
the positions of the various corps now near the frontiers of 
Russia. “Narbonne has not yet arrived,” he muttered to 
himself. “ Alexander seems really to hesitate whether to 
make peace or not. My four hundred thousand men, who 
have reached the Niemen, will frighten him, and he will sub- 
mit as all the others. He will not dare to bid me defiance! 
He will yield! He — ” Suddenly Napoleon paused and 
stepped hastily to the window on which he had happened to 
5 


58 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


fix his eyes. A strange spectacle presented itself. The large 
square directly in front of his windows, which on the day of 
his arrival had been so splendidly lit up, was dark and silent ; 
but, on the other side of the river, the Neustadt was now in 
a flood of light, and it seemed to him as if he heard cheers. 
He opened the window, and, leaning out, saw the houses 
illuminated — even the residences of the neighboring Palace 
Street. These houses, like those in the other parts of the 
city, had given previously no token of joy, and remained in 
darkness. The emperor shut the window angrily and rang 
the bell. “ Tell the grand marshal I wish to see him,” he said 
to the footman. 

A few minutes afterward Duroc entered. “Duroe,” ex- 
claimed the emperor, in an ftngry voice, and pointing his arm 
at the window, “what is the meaning of that illumination? 
In whose honor is it?” 

“ Sire,” said Duroc, slowly, “ I suppose it is in honor of the 
King of Prussia, who arrived to-day.” 

The emperor stamped on the floor, and his eyes flashed. 
“ The inhabitants of Dresden are rebels, and ought to be 
brought to their senses by bomb-shells!” he shouted, in a 
thundering voice. “ What does the King of Prussia concern 
them? And why do they show him this honor?” 

“Sire,” said Duroc, smiling, “the people, as the King of 
Prussia said to-day, know but little of etiquette, and are not 
so wise as courtiers.” 

“ ‘People!’ ” growled Napoleon. “There are no ‘people;’ 
there are only subjects, and they ought to be punished with 
fire and sword if they think of playing the part of ‘the peo- 
ple.’ Did I not issue orders to-day to the effect that all 
demonstrations should be prohibited? Why were my orders 
disobeyed?” 

“ Sire, they were obeyed so far as it was in our power. The 
police managed to prevent the populace from gathering and 
shouting in the street, but they are unable forcibly to enter 
the houses, because the inmates, without making any further 
demonstration, placed a few lights at their windows. Our 
agents, nevertheless, went to the proprietors of some of the 
houses, and asked for the reason of this sudden and unexpected 
demonstration. They replied that it was in honor of the 
Emperor Napoleon, the guest of their king.” 

“The villains! They dare to falsify!” exclaimed Napo- 
leon. “ The facts are against them. On the day when they 


NAPOLEON’S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 


59 


were to illuminate in honor of my arrival, all the houses were 
gloomy as the grave, on account of hostility to me. The same 
feeling is the reason of to-day’s illumination. It seems, 
then, that the king of Prussia is exceedingly popular in 
Saxony?” 

“ Yes, sire. The king, as I positively know, had instructed 
the inhabitants of the Prussian places through which he had 
to pass on his journey to Dresden, not to receive him in any 
formal manner whatever; but, of course, he was unable to 
issue such orders in regard to the cities and villages of Saxony. 
Well, so soon as he crossed the Saxon frontier, he was every- 
where received in the most ardent manner. All the bells were 
rung in the towns of Juterbogk and Grossenhayn on his ar- 
rival, and the whole population, headed by the municipal 
authorities, and all the other functionaries, came to meet him 
on the outskirts of the towns, and cheered him in the most 
jubilant manner.” 

“And how did he receive these honors?” 

“ He thanked the citizens, in plain and simple words, for 
the disinterested respect they were good enough to pay to a 
German prince.” 

“A German prince?” repeated Napoleon, vehemently; 
“ah, this little King of Prussia still braves me! I was too 
generous at Tilsit! I must cut his wings still shorter! I 
will show him what the French emperor can do with a Ger- 
man prince, when he dares to bid me defiance!” 

“Sire,” said Duroc, in a suppliant voice, “I beseech your 
majesty not to go too far ! The King of Prussia is backed by 
the sympathies of the whole German nation. His misfortunes 
cause the people to look on him as a martyr. They also be- 
lieve that he participates but reluctantly in this Russian war, 
and this increases the love with which they regard him, for I 
venture to say to your majesty that this nation is opposed to 
the war.” 

“ I have not appointed the German nation my secretary of 
war,!’ exclaimed Napoleon, “and I have not asked my grand 
marshal to give me his advice. Carry out my orders, and do 
your duty. Tell Berthier to come to me!” 

Duroc hung his head mournfully, and turned toward the 
door. The flaming eyes of Napoleon followed him. Just as 
the grand marshal opened the door, he heard the emperor 
calling him. “Sire?” he asked, turning, and standing at 
the door. There was now beaming so much love and mildness 


60 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


in the emperor’s face, that Duroc was unable to resist, and, 
as if attracted by a magnetic power, returned. 

“Duroc, my old friend,” said Napoleon, offering him his 
hand, “ I thank you for your good advice, for, though I did 
not ask it, it was well meant. I know full well that the so- 
called German people, as well as their princes, however they 
may cajole me, are opposed to this war. Oh, I know those 
treacherous princes! I know that those who flatter me to- 
day in the most abject manner, are only watching for an 
opportunity to avenge themselves for their sycophancy ; but I 
have chained them to me with iron bands, and extracted their 
teeth, so that they are unable to bite — their teeth, that is to 
say, their soldiers, whom I am taking with me into this last 
and decisive war. For I tell you, Duroc, it will be our last 
campaign. On the ruins of Moscow I will compel Alexander 
to submit, and then peace will be restored to Europe for years 
to come. And who knows, it may not be necessary to go so 
far? Perhaps it may be sufficient for me to march my army 
as far as the Niemen, to awaken Alexander from his reveries, 
and bring him to his senses.” 

“Alas, sire!” said Duroc, sighing, “Alexander has loved 
your majesty too tenderly not to feel irritated in the highest 
degree.” 

“Is it I, then, who broke this friendship?” exclaimed Na- 
poleon, vehemently. “Is it I w T ho brought about this war? 
Have I not rather resorted to all means in order to avoid it? 
Have I not twice sent Lauriston to Alexander, and offered 
him peace in case he should fulfil my conditions : to shut his 
ports against British ships, to lay an embargo upon British 
goods, and give up commercial intercourse with England? 
But, emboldened by his victories over the Turks, the Emperor 
of Russia takes the liberty of dictating conditions to me! He 
asks me to give him an indemnity for confiscating the states 
of his brother-in-law, the Prince of Oldenburg; he demands 
that I should not engage to reestablish the kingdom of 
Poland ! He wants to impose on me the terms by which peace 
is to be maintained! Conditions! I am the man to make 
them, but not to accept any! That would be a humiliation I 
could not submit to! You see, therefore, Duroc, I have been 
compelled to enter upon this war ; I did not seek it, but I 
cannot avoid it. You see the justice of it, do you not? You 
know that I desired, and am still desiring peace, and that it 
is with a heavy heart I shed the blood of my brave soldiers.” 


NAPOLEON’S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 


61 


“ Sire,” said Duroc, with a faint smile, “ I see at least that 
it is too late now to speak of peace, inasmuch as an army of 
four hundred thousand men is waiting on the Niemen for the 
arrival of your majesty.” 

“ Let Alexander speak ; let him accept my terms, and it 
will not be too late,” exclaimed Napoleon. “ I am looking 
for Narbonne, who may arrive at any moment. He will bring 
us either peace or war, for he will have Alexander’s final 
reply. As soon as he arrives he must be admitted, no matter 
whether I am asleep or awake. Go, now, Duroc ! Tell Ber- 
thier to come to me!” 

When Berthier entered, the emperor was standing at the 
window, and looking over to the Neustadt, which was still in 
a blaze of light. The marshal remained respectfully at the 
door, waiting to be addressed. A long pause ensued. Sud- 
denly Napoleon turned his pale countenance to Berthier, and 
exclaimed: “ Berthier, you will set out immediately. Go to 
Berlin, and convey my order to the Duke de Belluno. Tell 
him that I recommend the utmost vigilance, and that it is 
his task to maintain order in Prussia. The population of that 
country are very seditious. They are constantly ready to con- 
spire and rise in rebellion, and who knows whether Frederick 
William will not make common cause with the insurgents? 
This ought to be prevented by all means; war is at hand; 
hence we must redouble our 'firmness and vigilance, that no 
revolution may annoy us in our rear. You will repeat all this 
to the duke, and take him my instructions.” 

“Sire,” said Berthier, “if your majesty has no further 
orders, I shall set out immediately.” 

“ You will tell the Duke de Belluno that it is my will 
that no Prussian general or officer shall command at Ber- 
lin, and that the French general alone must give all nec- 
essary orders. Sit down ; I will dictate to you the other in- 
structions.” 

Berthier took a seat at the desk, and waited, pen in hand, 
for the emperor’s words. Casting again a glance on the city 
honoring the King of Prussia, he dictated : “ Special care is 
to be taken that neither at Berlin nor in its vicinity shall 
there be a depot of small- arms or cannon, which the populace 
might take possession of. No Prussian troops whatever shall 
he left at Berlin, and what few regular soldiers remain at the 
capital shall exclusively perform the military service at the 
palace. The French troops at Berlin shall not be lodged with 


62 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the citizens, but take up their quarters at the barracks, and, 
if these should be insufficient for their accommodation, en- 
camp in the open field. You will constantly keep some field- 
pieces ready for immediate use, in order to suppress any 
seditious movements that might take place. Every insult 
heaped upon a Frenchman will be punished by a court-martial 
according to the laws of war. Besides, it is necessary that 
the governor-general of Berlin should organize a secret police, 
that he may know what is going on, and have a vigilant eye 
on all dangerous attempts at disturbing the public peace. 
You will inform the Duke de Belluno that the administration 
of the country will be entirely left to the king’s ministers, 
but that the surveillance of the newspapers, as well as all other 
publications, and the whole organization of the police, must 
be in the duke’s hands, that nothing may give a dangerous 
impulse to the people, and that they may have no opportuni- 
ties of entering into a rebellion. Prussia must be kept down 
by all means at our command. You will tell the Duke de 
Belluno that I have given orders that three or four well- 
informed French officers should stay at Colberg and Graudenz. 
The right of having a Prussian garrison was reserved only to 
Colberg, and Potsdam is the only city through wffiich the 
French troops are not allowed to pass; but the inhabitants of 
Potsdam should be accustomed to see many French officers in 
their midst. The latter must frequently stop there overnight 
on the pretext of seeing the city, and, if their own curiosity 
should not impel them to do so, their commander should in- 
duce them to pursue the course I have indicated. The duke 
shall, under all circumstances, show the greatest deference to 
the King of Prussia, and even to affectation at festivals and 
on all public occasions. He shall, besides, frequently invite 
to his table the Prussian ministers, and what few Prussian 
officers will be left at Berlin, and always treat them in the 
most polite and obliging manner. But at all hours a vigilant 
eye must be had on the king as well as on the authorities and 
the people, and the duke ought always to be ready to put 
down the slightest demonstration or disorder. I have done,” 
said Napoleon. “ Go, Berthier, and comply carefully w r ith 
my instructions. No confidence can be reposed in Frederick 
William or in his people. We have subjugated Prussia, but 
it may perhaps be necessary to crush her. At the slightest 
provocation this must be done; if she will not be an honest 
ally, I will prove to her that I am an honest enemy, and, to 


NAPOLEON' S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 


63 


give her this proof, put an end to her existence. Go, Ber- 
thier; set out immediately.” 

Berthier withdrew, while Napoleon returned to the window 
with a triumphant air. “Ah, my little King of Prussia,” he 
said, scornfully, “ they kindle lights here under my eyes in 
honor of your petty majesty, but my breath can extinguish 
them and leave you in a profound darkness. Another such 
provocation, and your throne breaks down. Another — ” 

The door of the antechamber was hastily opened, and Rou- 
stan appeared. “Sire,” he said, “his excellency Count de 
Narbonne requests an audience.” 

“Narbonne!” ejaculated Napoleon, joyously. “Come in, 
Narbonne, come in!” And he hastened to meet the count, 
who entered the cabinet, and, as an experienced cavalier of 
the court of Louis XVI., made his bows in strict accordance 
with etiquette, 

“Omit these unnecessary ceremonies,” said Napoleon, 
quivering with impatience and anxiety. “ I have been look- 
ing for you a long time. What results do you bring me?” 

“Sire,” said the count, with his imperturbable, diplomatic 
smile, “ I am afraid the result of my mission will be war.” 

“What!” exclaimed Napoleon, eagerly, and, for a moment, 
a faint blush tinged his cheeks. “What! The Emperor 
Alexander will not yield? He refuses to comply with my 
conditions?” 

“Sire, your majesty will' permit me to repeat to you the 
emperor’s own words,” said the count, with composure. 
“ When I had laid your propositions before his majesty, and 
told him that if the czar should shut his ports against British 
ships, continue the war with England, lay an embargo on all 
British goods, and give up all direct and indirect commercial 
intercourse with England, your majesty then would make 
peace with Russia, the Emperor Alexander exclaimed vehe- 
mently, ‘Such a peace I would accept only after having been 
forced into the interior of Siberia!’ ” * 

“Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, “I will give him the pleasure 
of that journey. He will become acquainted with Siberia, 
and there I mean to dictate terms of peace, unless I prefer to 
leave him there forever. Did you bring any other dis- 
patches?” 

“ I did, sire. Here is the official reply of Minister Count 

* Alexander’s own words.— Vide “M6moires d’un Homme d’fitat,” vol. xiii., 
p. 375. 


64 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Romanzoff to the letter of the Duke de Bassano, of which I 
was the bearer. It is nothing but a repetition of the phrases 
which the Russian ambassador at Paris made to us up to the 
day of his departure. Here is Romanzoff’s letter. Will your 
majesty be so gracious as to read it?” 

Napoleon took the paper and glanced over it. “ You are 
right,” he said, flinging the paper contemptuously on the 
table. “Nothing but the same phrase: ‘Alexander wants 
peace, but is unable to fulfil my conditions.’ Well, then, he 
shall have war! The first shot discharged at my soldiers will 
be answered by a thousand cannon, and they will announce to 
the world that Napoleon is expelling the barbarians from 
Europe.” 

“Sire,” said Narbonne, smiling, “if your majesty intends 
to wait until the Russians fire the first gun, there will be no 
war, and may it be so ! The Emperor Alexander has made 
up his mind not to take the initiative. Only when the armies 
of your majesty have crossed the frontier of Russia, when you 
have forcibly entered his states, will Alexander look upon the 
war as begun, but he will not carry it beyond the boundaries 
of his country: he will not meet the enemy, whom he would 
still like so much to call his friend, outside the frontiers of 
his empire.” 

“Ah, I knew well that Alexander is hesitating,” exclaimed 
Napoleon, triumphantly. “ He dares not attack me, and his 
vacillation will give me time to complete my preparations, 
and surround him so closely that he cannot escape. While 
he is still dreaming at the Kremlin of the possibility of peace, 
I shall be at the gates, and ask him in the thunder of my 
cannon whether he will submit, or bury himself beneath the 
ruins of his throne.” 

“He will choose the latter,” exclaimed Narbonne, quickly. 

“ He will not!” said Napoleon, proudly. “ He will submit! 
A terrible blow struck in the heart of the empire, Moscow — 
holy Moscow — 'delivers Russia into my hands. I know Alex- 
ander; I exerted formerly great influence over him. I must 
dazzle his imagination by boldness and energy, and he will 
return to my friendship.” 

“ Heaven grant that it may be so!” said Narbonne, sighing. 

“It is so!” said Napoleon, confidently, walking with rapid 
steps and proud head; “yes, it is so! Fate has intrusted me 
with the mission of ridding Europe of the barbarians. The 
logic of events necessitates this war, and even family ties, 


NAPOLEON’S DEPARTURE FROM DRESDEN. 


65 


such as we proposed to form at^mr interview at Erfurt, would 
not have prevented it. The barbarism of Russia is threaten- 
ing the whole of Europe. Think of Suwarrow and his Tar- 
tars in Italy! Our reply ought to be, to hurl them back 
beyond Moscow; and when would Europe be able to do so, 
unless now and through me.” * 

“ But, sire, Europe, in the madness of her hatred, would 
prefer to make common cause with Russia. Suppose she 
should offer her hand to the Tartars and Cossacks, to deliver 
herself from the yoke which the glory and greatness of Napo- 
leon have imposed upon her neck? Sire, at this decisive hour 
you must permit me to tell you the truth: I am afraid the 
hatred, the cunning malice and rage of your enemies, will 
this time be stronger than the military skill of your majesty, 
and the bravery of the hundreds of thousands who have fol- 
lowed you with such enthusiasm. Your majesty says that 
Alexander is hesitating, and that may, perhaps, be true; but 
his people are the more resolute, and so is the emperor’s suite. 
They are bent on having war, and with the whole strength of 
mortal hatred and patriotic fanaticism. The people, insti- 
gated by their venomous and impassioned priests, regard this 
as a holy war, commanded by God Himself. Their priests 
have told them that the Emperor of the French is coming 
with his armies to devastate Russia, to destroy the altars and 
images of the saints, and to dethrone the czar, in order to 
place himself on the throne. The Russian people, who, in 
their childlike innocence, believe to be true whatever their 
priests tell them, feel themselves profoundly wounded in their 
most sacred sympathies: love for the fatherland, the church, 
and the czar, and they are rising to a man to save them. 
Sire, this war which your majesty is about to commence is no 
ordinary war: the enemy will not oppose you in the open 
field ; like the Parthian, he will seemingly flee from his pur- 
suer; he will decoy you forward, but in the thicket or ravine 
he will conceal himself, and when you pass by will have you 
at an advantage. He will never allow you to fight him in a 
pitched battle, but every village and cottage will be an ob- 
stacle, a rampart obstructing your route. Every peasant will 
regard himself a soldier, and believe it his bounden duty to 
fight, however sure he may be to die. Sire, the terrible scenes 
in Spain may be renewed in Russia, for all Russia will be a 
vast Saragossa; women, children, and old men, will parti ci- 

* Napoleon’s own words.— Vide “Souvenirs du Comt3 Villemain, ” vol. i. , p. 163. 


66 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


pate in this struggle; they will die eating poisoned bread 
with the enemy, rather than give him wholesome food.” 

“ You are exaggerating!” exclaimed Napoleon, sneeringly. 
“In truth, it is mere imagination to compare the Russian 
serf — the blood in whose veins is frozen by Siberian cold, and 
whose hack is cut up and bowed by the knout — with the Span- 
iard, passionate and free beneath a torrid sun, and who in his 
rags still feels himself noble and a grandee. But these exag- 
gerations shall not influence me! The die is cast: I cannot 
recede! Great Heaven! this tedious old Europe! I will 
bring from Russia the keys to unlock a new world. Or do 
you believe, you short-sighted little men, that I have under- 
taken, merely for the sake o£ Russia, this greatest expedition 
that military history will ever engrave upon its tablets? No; 
Moscow is to me but the gate of Asia! My route to India 
passes that way. Alexander the Great had as long a route to 
the Ganges as I shall have from Moscow, and yet he reached 
his destination. Should I shrink from what he succeeded in 
accomplishing? Since the days of St. Jean d’Acre I have 
thought of this scheme; if it had not been for the discontinu- 
ance of the siege and the plague, I should at that time have 
conquered one-half of Asia, and have thence returned to 
Europe for the thrones of Germany and Italy. Do not look at 
me so wonderingly, Narbonne. I tell you nothing but my 
real schemes. They shall be carried into effect, and then you 
and the world will have to acknowledge that my words are 
oracles, my actions miracles, and every day a new one!* In 
the morning I set out early and repair to the headquarters of 
my army. Do not say a word, Narbonne! I leave Dresden 
early in the morning. The fate of Russia is decided! Go!” 
He waved his hand toward the door, and turned his back to 
Narbonne. 

The count left the imperial cabinet with a sigh. In the 
corridor outside he met Berthier and Duroc, who seemed to 
await him. “ Well,” both of them asked eagerly, “ were your 
representations successful? Will the emperor, at the eleventh 
hour, make peace?” 

Narbonne shook his head sadly. “It was all in vain,” he 
replied. “ He wishes war, and you do not even dream how 
far he means to carry it. When listening to him, one be- 
lieves him to be either a demigod, to whom temples should be 
built, or a lunatic, who should be sent to Bedlam!” f 

* Napoleon’s own words.— Vide Villemain, “Souvenirs,” vol. i., p. 180. 

+ Count Louis de Narbonne"s own words.— Vide “Souvenirs,” vol. 1. 


THE LAST DAYS OF 1812. 


CHAPTEE VII. 

THE CONSPIRATORS OF HELGOLAND. 

The storm was howling over the ocean, revealing its depths, 
and hurling its foaming waves to the sky. They dashed 
wildly against yonder lofty rock that calmly overlooked the 
anger of the tempest. It was the rock of Helgoland. In 
times of old, it towered even more proudly above the unruly 
element surrounding it. It was then a terror to seafaring 
nations, and when the ships of the rich merchants of Ham- 
burg, Bremen, Holland, and Denmark, passed it at as great a 
distance as possible, the masters made the sign of the cross, 
and prayed God would deliver them from this imminent dan- 
ger. In ancient days Helgoland was ten times larger than it 
is now, and on this old rocky island, which had been the last 
aslyum of the gods of northern paganism, lived a warlike peo- 
ple, who knew no other laws than those of their own will, no 
other toil than piracy, and who submitted to no other master 
than the chieftain chosen from among their most colossal fel- 
lows. The pirates of Helgoland were desperate men, who had 
selected for themselves as a coat of arms a wheel and a gallows, 
which they wore embroidered on the sleeves of their jackets; 
and their last chieftain, who especially terrified the hearts of 
sea-captains passing the island, called himself: “I, by my 
own grace, and not that of God, Long Peter, Murderer of the 
Dutch, Destroyer of the Hamburgers, Chastiser of the Danes, 
and Scourge of the Bremen Ships.”. But Long Peter, “by 
his own grace, and not that of God,” had at length fallen a 
victim to the vicissitudes of life. The women of Helgoland, 
revolting against his cruelty, baseness, and tyranny, surren- 
dered the island, the seat of the ancient gods, to Admiral 
Paulsen, of the Danish navy. This occurred in 1684, and 
since then Helgoland remained under the authority of the 


68 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Danish crown until 1807. The conflagration of Copenhagen 
melted the chains that fastened the old gray rock to Denmark, 
and England, that triumphantly conveyed the whole Danish 
fleet to her own shores, annexed Helgoland. 

The island had become much smaller ever since Long Peter, 
its last chieftain, died. The storms had swept over it, tear- 
ing rocky masses from its shores, and flinging them far into 
the sea, which had undermined the foundations of Helgo- 
land, and hidden the conquest beneath the waves. Although 
small, it was the beacon of Europe. In the last days of 1812 
the eyes of all German patriots were fixed longingly and hope- 
fully upon that lonely rock in the North Sea. It was British 
territory — the first advance which England had made to the 
shores of suffering Germany, and, her proud flag waving over 
it, made it the asylum of persecuted patriots and members of 
the secret leagues. To the red rock, in the midst of the sea, 
came no French spies; there were no traitors’ ears, for the 
pilot at the light-house kept a good lookout, and no suspicious 
ship was permitted to anchor ; no one was allowed to land 
without having given a good account of himself, and satisfying 
the authorities that confidence might be reposed in him. 
Those allowed to disembark were heartily welcomed, for, by 
setting foot on the rocky island, they had become members of 
the vast family of Napoleon’s enemies — of the brethren who 
had united against his power — of the conspirators whose sworn 
duty it was to oppose Napoleon with the weapons of cunning 
as well as force — of intrigue creeping in the dark, or of brave 
and manly defiance. 

In Helgoland the swarms of smugglers sheltered, who had 
taken upon themselves the risk of trading English goods, 
against which Napoleon’s hatred tried to shut the entire con- 
tinent. There came the crowd of foreign merchants, to pur- 
chase of English dealers the goods which Napoleon’s decrees 
had prohibited in his own dominions, as well as in those of 
his allies. Every British manufacturer and wholesale dealer 
had his counting-house and depot at Helgoland. Vast ware- 
houses, resembling palaces, rose on the plateau of the island, 
and approaching ships beheld them from afar. In these 
warehouses were stored all the articles which British industry 
was able to offer to the rest of Europe, and which the people 
of the whole continent desired the more ardently, the more 
rigorously they were forbidden to purchase them. A very 
large commercial firm of London and Manchester had branches 


THE CONSPIRATORS OF HELGOLAND. 


G9 


of their business on the island; every wealthy banker had an 
office there, and people were justified in calling Helgoland 
“Little London.” You would have thought yourself in the 
city of London, when passing through the narrow streets of 
the island, lined on both sides with vast warehouses, and read- 
ing on each the names of the most celebrated London firms. 
You would almost have fancied you were in the gigantic har- 
bor of the Thames, when looking at the forest of masts, the 
animated crowds, the ships and boats, where from three to 
four hundred vessels cleared and entered every day. 

Not only merchants and smugglers, adventurers and specu- 
lators, flocked to Helgoland, but diplomatists, politicians, and 
patriots found on the rocky island a refuge and convenient 
point, where they might meet their brethren and reunite kin- 
dred hearts. The members of the great secret league has- 
tened from the north and the south of Europe to Helgoland, 
to hold meetings there, concert plans, and communicate to 
each other what they had succeeded in accomplishing. 

On one of the last days in September, 1812, an unusual 
commotion prevailed on the island. It was noon, and yet 
more than two hundred ships had arrived and cast anchor. 
All the stores were open and the goods displayed; brokers and 
speculators elbowed themselves in busy haste through the 
multitude of merchants, owners of ships, smugglers, and sail- 
ors, that filled the whole upper part of the island, offering 
goods for sale in all languages; and among them were to be 
seen the beautiful girls of Helgoland, dressed in their strange 
costume, and carrying in baskets and on plates all sorts of 
delicacies, for which they sought purchasers. 

At a distance from the throng stood three men, who paid 
but little attention to the merry, excited crowd. They were 
closely wrapped in cloaks, with their hats drawn over their 
foreheads, and looked steadfastly upon the sea. Far on the 
horizon there appeared another small dark speck, which grad- 
ually assumed a definite shape. 

“A ship!” ejaculated one of the three men, eagerly. 

“ Yes, a ship,” repeated his two companions. They paused, 
looking eagerly at the vessel, which rapidly darted across the 
waves, and could now be discerned by the unaided eye. 

“Look,” said one of the three, “she is a man-of-war. I 
see the port-holes.” 

“ But I do not see her flag,” said one of his companions. 

“ I do,” exclaimed the third, who had hitherto looked at 


70 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the ship through a large telescope. “ Yellow and blue, the 
Swedish colors.” 

“At length!” exclaimed the first speaker, joyously. “I 
hope it is he!” 

“ There is another ship,” said the second speaker, pointing 
his hand to a different part of the horizon. “How she is 
dashing along! — her keel cuts the waves so that their foaming 
crests sweep like a silver chain behind her. Oh, I like that 
ship! it seems to me as though she brings us glad tidings, and 
comes for our sake, and not for commercial purposes.” 

“Now she unfurls her flag!” exclaimed the third speaker. 
“It is the union jack! Oh, you are right, she comes for our 
sake, and I hope some friend is on board. But we are for- 
getting the Swedish vessel. Where is she?” 

“ There ! The little fish has become a whale. And see, 
the English ship, too, is much larger, and is dancing along 
like a beauty. Both are very fast, and in half an hour they 
will be at anchor in the harbor.” 

“ Heaven grant that the friends for whom we are looking 
may be on board!” said his two companions, sighing. 

“ Your wish will be granted,” said their friend. “ God is 
with us and blesses our league. Has He not already for twelve 
days bidden the sea be calm, and not detain us or one of ours 
by adverse winds? Have we not all arrived to-day, as we had 
agreed to, from three different parts of the world ? Why should 
the other brethren of our league not be able to do the same?” 

“Yes, you are right,” said the first speaker, smiling. 
“ Heaven does seem to be with us, and it is apparently for our 
sake that this rock emerged from the waves as a snug little 
boudoir for our European rendezvous. Bonaparte may often 
enough cast angry glances in this direction, but the lightning 
of his eyes and the thunder of his words do not reach our 
sea-girt asylum, which God Himself has built and furnished 
for us. Grim Bonaparte cannot hurt us here, but we will try 
to hurt him, and one day he will find out what we are doing 
at the political boudoir of Helgoland.” 

“ Look,” exclaimed his friend, “ the two ships have reached 
the island at the same time, and are now anchoring.” 

“They are lowering their boats,” exclaimed the third 
speaker. “ The passengers are going ashore.” 

“ Let us go to the place agreed upon, and see whether they 
are the brethren we are looking for,” said the first speaker. 

“ Yes, let us go,” exclaimed his two companions. 


THE CONSPIRATORS OF HELGOLAND. 


71 


Without exchanging another word, they turned and walked 
hastily through the busy crowds to the staircase leading from 
the upper part of the island to the lower shore. Here they 
passed through the streets of small, neat fishermen’s huts, and 
then entered the last building. A footman in a gorgeous liv- 
ery received them in the small hall, and opened with reveren- 
tial politeness the door leading into the only room of the hut. 
The three men walked in, and locked the door carefully. 
One of them took off his hat and cloak, and now stood before 
his two companions in splendid uniform, his breast covered 
with orders. “Permit me, gentlemen,” he said, smiling — 
“permit me to greet you here as guests of mine, for you are 
now at my house. I have bought this building for the pur- 
pose of holding the meetings of the members of our league. 
Up to this time we have recognized each other as friends only 
by the signs and passwords that had been agreed on; but 
now, if you please, we will drop our incognito. I am Count 
Munster, minister of the Elector of Hanover and the King of 
England.” 

“ And I,” said the second gentleman, taking off his cloak — 
“ I have the honor of introducing myself to your excellency as 
the chief of the Berlin police, who was proscribed and exiled 
by Bonaparte. My name is Justus Gruner.” 

“ A name that I have known a long time, though I was not 
acquainted with the man himself,” said Count Munster, 
kindly offering him his hand. “ Let me bid you welcome as 
a faithful and zealous adherent of the good cause — as a noble 
patriot in whom Germany confides and hopes.” 

“ It is my turn now to unmask,” said the third, whose coun- 
tenance had hitherto been almost entirely invisible, so closely 
had he muffled himself. Taking off his cloak and hat and 
bowing to his companions, he said, “ My name is Frederick 
William of Brunswick.” 

“ I had the honor to recognize your highness when you were 
yet in the boat, and I stood on the shore,” said Count Mun- 
ster, smiling and bowing respectfully. 

“And why did you not tell me so?” asked the duke, 
eagerly. 

“Because I respected your incognito, your highness,” said 
the count. 

The duke shook his head, which was covered with dark, 
curly hair. “No etiquette, count,” he said, almost indig- 
nantly. “I am nothing but a poor soldier, who scarcely 


72 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


knows where to lay his head, whom grief is tormenting, and 
whose hunger for vengeance is not appeased.” 

“There will be a time when all those who are hungry, like 
your highness, will be satisfied,” said Justus Gruner, solemnly. 

“If you speak the truth, my friend,” exclaimed the duke, 
with emphasis, the eyes of my blind father, who died in de- 
spair, will reopen, and he will look down with blissful tears 
upon the delivered world. And they will blot out his last 
dying words, that are burning like fire in my heart. ‘Oh, 
what a disgrace! what a disgrace!’ were the last words my 
father uttered. I hear them night and day ; they are always 
resounding in my ears like the death-knell of Germany ; they 
are ever smarting in my heart like an open wound. Germany 
is groaning and lamenting, for Napoleon’s foot is still on her 
neck, and, mortally wounded and blinded like my father, we 
are all crying, ‘Oh, what a disgrace! what a disgrace!’ ” 

“ But the time will soon come when our wounds will heal,” 
said Count Munster, gravely. “ Our night is passing, the 
morning dawns, and the star of Bonaparte will fade forever.” 

“I do not think it,” said the duke, sighing. It is still 
shining over our heads — he is rather like a threatening 
meteor, and its eccentric course is over the snow-fields of 
Russia. But hush! footsteps are approaching.” The duke 
was not mistaken. They heard the door of the hut violently 
open and close, and shortly after some one rapped at the 
locked door. 

“The password!” shouted Count Munster, putting his hand 
on the key. 

“ 11 est temps de finir! ” replied a sonorous voice outside. 

Count Munster opened the door. A gentleman of imposing 
stature entered the room. “ Count Nugent,” exclaimed Count 
Munster, joyously, offering both his hands to the friend whom 
he had known for many years. Was it you who arrived on 
the last English ship?” 

“ Yes,” said the count, saluting the other gentlemen. But 
I believe there will be more guests here directly. I saw close 
behind me two men wrapped in cloaks, who were also moving 
hither. Ah, they are passing the window at this moment.” 

“And now they are entering the house,” said the count, 
listening. 

Another rapping was heard, and the call for the password 
was answered again by the shout of “ 11 est temps de finir! ” 

“ They are the passengers from the Swedish vessel, as I 


THE CONSPIRATORS OF HELGOLAND. 


73 


hoped they would be,” said Count Munster, opening the door. 
Two men in cloaks entered, and bowed silently to the others. 

“ Gneisenau ! My dear Gneisenau !” exclaimed Count Mun- 
ster, tenderly embracing the gentleman who had entered last. 
“Then, you have really kept your word! You have come in 
spite of all dangers! I thank you in the name of Germany!” 

“ You will thank me only after having learned what new 
ally I have enlisted for our holy cause,” said Gneisenau, smil- 
ing, and pointing to his companion, who, still closely muffled, 
was standing by his side silent and motionless. 

“You come from Stockholm,” said Count Munster, joy- 
ously, “you bring us a delegate of the crown prince of 
Sweden, the noble Bernadotte, do you not? My heart does 
not deceive me — I am sure!” 

“No, your heart does not deceive you,” said Gneisenau, 
smiling. “ This gentleman is an envoy of the crown prince of 
Sweden, who promises us his friendship and assistance.” 

“No,” said the stranger, slowly and solemnly. “At this 
hour there must be truth between us. I am not an envoy of 
the crown prince of Sweden, I am he himself, I am Berna- 
dotte!” He took off his hat and cloak, and bowed to the 
astonished gentlemen. “ I wish to prove to you, and to those 
whom you are representing, that I am in earnest,” said Ber- 
nadotte, in the most dignified manner. “ My French heart 
had to undergo a long and painful struggle, but the crown 
prince of Sweden conquered it. I must think no longer of 
the blood that is flowing in my veins, but remember only that, 
by the decree of the noble Swedish nation, I have been des- 
tined to become its king, and that, therefore, the interests of 
Sweden must be more important and sacred to me than my 
own heart. The Emperor of the French has offered me an 
alliance. But Russia and Prussia are urging me to espouse 
their cause. The interest of Sweden requires me to ally my- 
self with those who have justice, strength, and honor on their 
side; I shall, therefore, side with Russia, England, and 
Prussia. This is the reply which I made to the Russian am- 
bassadors, and likewise to the Prussian General Gneisenau 
here. But, at the same time, I asked opportunity to com- 
plete my preparations, and until that can be done, I have 
requested the ambassadors to keep secret my accession to the 
northern alliance. It seemed to me as though this request of 
mine were looked upon as a proof of my vacillation, and as a 
want of candor, and as though doubts were entertained as to 
6 


74 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


my ultimate decision. Hence I wished to manifest my true 
spirit by coming myself to you instead of sending a delegate. 
Now, you have heard ray political confession. Are you con- 
tent with it, and may I participate in your deliberations?” 
And the crown prince of Sweden, uttering the last words, 
turned with a winning smile to Count Munster, and sank his 
head as a prisoner waiting for sentence. 

“I pray your royal highness, in the name of my friends 
present, to remain and participate in our discussions,” said 
Count Munster. “ We are now waiting for no further arri- 
vals — all the invited guests have come. Let us take our seats. 
Let the conference commence. But first permit me to intro- 
duce the gentlemen to each other.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 

The six gentlemen sat down on chairs placed around the 
table standing in the middle of the room. Count Munster 
bowed to them. “As it was I who invited you to attend this 
conference,” he said, “I must take the liberty of addressing 
you first. I must justify myself for having called upon you in 
the name of Germany, in the name of Europe, to come hither 
notwithstanding the dangers and hardships of the journey. 
Yes, gentlemen, Germany stands in need of our assistance. 
But not only Germany — Spain, drenched in the blood of her 
patriots; poor, enslaved Italy; Holland, ruthlessly annexed to 
France; in short, all the states that are groaning under the 
tyrant’s yoke ; yea, France herself ! — all are crying for deliver- 
ance from slavery. But whence is help to come when every 
one shuts his eyes against the despairing wail of Europe; when 
every one idly folds his hands and waits for some one else to 
be bold enough to call upon the people to take up arms? 
Every individual must be animated with this courage ; must 
regard himself as chosen by Providence to commence the task 
of liberation. Each one must act as though it were he who 
is to set the world in motion, and were the head of the great 
and holy conspiracy by which mankind is to be delivered from 
the tyrant. I told myself so when I saw all Germany sinking; 
I repeat it to myself every day, and it is my excuse now for 
having ventured to invite thither men who are my superiors 


THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 


75 


in every respect. But to Germany alone we shall give an ac- 
count of what we have hitherto done for her liberation; for 
her let us deliberate as to what we further ought to do, and 
what plans we should pursue. The world lies prostrate, but 
we must raise it again ; the nations are manacled, but we must 
be the files that imperceptibly cut through the fetters, and we 
must then tell the people that it is easy for them to gain their 
independence; that it is only necessary to take the sword, and 
prove by deeds that they feel themselves free — then they will 
be free. This is our task — the task of all generous patriots. 
Every one has been conscious of this, but also, that there 
should be a bond connecting all the members of this secret 
league, to which every patriot belongs. That was the idea 
which caused several friends and myself to unite our efforts. 
"VVe did so, and this union made us feel doubly strong; we 
conferred as to our duties and schemes, and by doing so they 
became clearer to us, and better matured. We made our- 
selves emissaries of the sacred cause of the fatherland, and 
went into the world to enlist soldiers, to create a new nation, 
awaken the sleepers, enlighten the ignorant, bring back the 
faithless, undeceive the deceived, and console the despairing. 
For this purpose I have struggled for years, and so have all 
my friends, and so do all good and faithful patriots, without 
perhaps being fully conscious of it. But it is necessary, too, 
that those who, like us, are fully alive to their duty, should 
from time to time give each other an account of what they 
have accomplished, that they may agree upon new plans for 
the future. I, therefore, requested my friends Count Nugent 
and General Gneisenau, to come hither ; I wrote to Minister von 
Stein, who is now at Prague, either to come himself, or send a 
reliable representative, and I requested another in Northern 
Germany to send one of his intimate friends. Four months 
ago I dispatched my invitations; the meeting was to take place 
to-day, and we have all promptly responded to the call. My 
friend in Northern Germany induced the noblest and most 
faithful soldier of the fatherland, Duke Frederick William of 
Brunswick, to go to Helgoland. Minister von Stein, who, in 
the mean time, was obliged to go to Russia, sends us a noble 
representative in the person of Justus Gruner, and the mag- 
nanimous crown prince of Sweden offers us, by his voluntary 
appearance in our midst, a new guaranty for the success of 
our schemes. We know now what has called us hither. Let 
us communicate to each other what we have hitherto done, 


76 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


in order to attain the object for which we are striving, and 
what plans we shall adopt. In this respect, the two noble 
princes now in our midst are especially able to make valuable 
suggestions, and it is to them principally that we shall apply. 
The former question, however, concerns chiefly ourselves, who 
have for years been members of the league, and have jointly 
tried to promote its objects. In order to know what we 
should do, we must be informed exactly of what we have 
already done. To be able to conceive plans for the future, we 
must carefully weigh, and render ourselves perfectly familiar 
with, the present political situation, and communicate our 
observations and adventures to each other. Let us do so now. 
Let the gentleman who arrived last speak first. General Gnei- 
senau, tell us, therefore, what hopes do you entertain in 
regard to Prussia? What are the sentiments of the king? 
What has Germany or Prussia to hope from the ministers of 
Frederick William? What is the spirit of the people and the 
soldiers?” 

“You ask a great deal,” said Gneisenau, sighing, “and I 
have but little to reply. I have no hopes whatever in regard 
to Prussia. That is the result of the observations during my 
present journey. Every thing is in about the same con- 
dition as it was in 1811 ; the same men are still ruling, and 
the same state of affairs, on account of which I left the Prus- 
sian service at that time, is still prevailing. The king is the 
noblest and best-meaning man, but his indecision and distrust 
in his own abilities are his own curse, as well as that of his 
country. When, in 1808, we heard at Konigsberg the news 
of the events of Bayonne, the king said, ‘Bonaparte will as- 
suredly not catch me in such a manner!’ and now he has 
delivered himself into the hands of his most relentless enemy, 
who, if Russia should be defeated, would dethrone him, or, if 
Bonaparte should not be successful, keep him as a hostage.* 
The friends of the French, the timid, and the cowards, are 
still besieging the king’s ears, and enjoying his confidence to 
a greater extent than Hardenberg does. Ilardenberg is all 
right, but he intends, after the fashion of diplomatists, to 
attain the great object slowly and cautiously, instead of 
struggling for it boldly, and sword in hand. He is secretly 
on our side; he hates Napoleon and curses the chains that are 
fettering Prussia; he is always planning as to the best means 
of breaking them, but publicly he negotiates with the diplo- 

* Gneisenau’s own words.— Vide “ Lebensbilder, ” vol. i., p. 261. 


THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 


77 


matists of Napoleon to bring about a marriage between the 
crown prince and one of Napoleon’s nieces. There can be no 
question of any army in Prussia, for the forty thousand men 
whom Napoleon permitted the King of Prussia still to retain 
under arms, had either to accompany the French army to 
Russia, or are at least stationed, as Napoleon’s reserves, on the 
extreme frontiers. Berlin, as well as all larger cities, and 
the fortresses, are garrisoned by French troops, keeping down 
the national spirit of the population, and rendering any at- 
tempt at insurrection an utter impossibility, even though the 
people should intend to strike. But they think no longer of 
rising. They are exhausted in their misery, and have lost 
their energy. They feel only that they are suffering, but they 
inquire no more for the cause. And thus Prussia will perish, 
unless some powerful impetus from abroad, some dispensation 
of Providence, should arouse her from her lethargy, and 
restore her to the consciousness of her disgrace and her 
strength. I hope that this will occur; for only this and Eng- 
land’s energy will be able to save us. But other hopes I do 
not entertain. I, therefore, shall leave Prussia again and 
accompany you to England, Count Munster, when you return 
thither.” 

“ I shall set out for England this day, as soon as our con- 
ference is at an end,” said Count Munster, “and you will be 
a most welcome and agreeable companion. It is only now 
that I perceive how necessary a personal interview was, and 
how good it is that we are here assembled. Many things, 
which cannot be explained in the longest letters, may be per- 
fectly understood after an interview of fifteen minutes. I 
believe and hope, my friend, that your view of the present 
state of affairs is by far too gloomy. You are hoping for an 
impetus from abroad; but that will scarcely be needed to 
arouse the nations from their lethargy. A new spirit is ani- 
mating Germany, and it is Spain, with her heroic victories, 
that has awakened this spirit. The immortal defence of Sara- 
gossa has passed like a magic song throughout Europe, and 
has told the oppressed and enslaved nations that Bonaparte 
is not invincible, and that a nation which will not suffer itself 
to be enslaved has the strength to defend itself against the 
most powerful tyrant. Looking upon Spain, the nations re- 
collect these noble words of Tacitus: ‘It is not the tyrants 
who make nations slaves, but the nations degrading them- 
selves voluntarily to the abject position of slaves make 


78 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


tyrants. ’ And the nations will have no more tyrants, but are 
determined to annihilate him who has put his foot upon their 
neck. Tell us, Count Nugent — you w r ho, in the service of 
holy liberty, have been wandering about the world for the last 
two years — tell us whether I am not justified in asserting that 
the nations are about to awake?” 

“Yes, I believe so,” said Count Nugent, joyously. “For 
the third time during two years I have finished a journey 
through Europe. From Vienna I went by way of Trieste, 
Corfu, and Malta, to the British generals in Sicily, Spain, and 
Portugal, thence to England, and from England I returned to 
Vienna under an assumed name and all sorts of disguises. 
During my first two journeys I saw everywhere only that the 
nations submitted unhesitatingly, as though Bonaparte were 
the scourge which God Himself had sent to chastise them, 
and against whom they were not allowed to revolt, although 
rivers of blood were spilled. But I saw no prince who had 
the strength or courage, or even the wish to rule as a free and 
independent sovereign over a free people. The princes were 
everywhere content with being the vassals of France; they 
deemed themselves happy to have secured by their humiliation 
at least a title; they were striving to obtain by base syco- 
phancy additional territories and orders, and betraying their 
own country and their own people in order to serve the Em- 
peror of France. It was a terrible, heart-rending spectacle 
presented by Germany during these last years, and which 
could not but fill the heart of every patriot with shame and 
despair. And yet this period of degradation was necessary 
and even salutary, for it blinded Napoleon by the glaring sun- 
shine of his power; it rendered him overbearing and reckless; 
he dared every thing, because he believed he would succeed in 
every thing, and that the world had utterly succumbed to his 
power. He dared all, trampled on every feeling of justice, 
and thereby finally goaded the nations to resist him. In 1810 
he exclaimed triumphantly, ‘Three years yet, and I shall be 
master of the world!' And when he lately took the field 
against Russia, he said, ‘After humiliating Russia and reduc- 
ing her to an Asiatic power, I shall establish at Paris a 
universal European court and universal archives ! ’ He believes 
himself to be the master of the world; he thinks the thunder- 
bolts of heaven are in his hands, and his arrogance will drive 
him to destruction, for ‘the gods first blind him whom they in- 
tend to destroy.’ And Napoleon is blind, for he does not see 


THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 


79 


the wrath of the nations; he is deaf, for he does not hear the 
imprecations which all nations, from the Mediterranean to the 
North Sea and the Baltic, are uttering against him. Yes, 
the morning is dawning, and the nations are awaking; Nnpo- 
leon has already passed the zenith of his glory; his star does 
not now dazzle mankind ; they have commenced to doubt the 
stability of his power. I saw a curious instance of this last 
year in Vienna at Metternich’s saloon. When the courier 
who brought the news of the birth of the King of Rome, still 
exhausted by the rapid ride from Nancy, entered and held up 
Champagny’s letter containing nothing but these words, ‘ Eh 
lien , le Roi de Rome est arrive! ’ every one cried, ‘Is not the 
hand of God there? The wonderful man has the son he 
wished for. Whither will the madmen and demagogues direct 
their hopes now?’ But a courageous and merry native of 
Vienna exclaimed in the midst of the diplomatists, ‘Oh! 
ten years hence this King of Rome will be a poor little student 
in this city!’* The diplomatists were silent; the former 
ambassador of Hanover, however, Count Hardenberg, brother 
of the chancellor of state, burst into loud laughter. These 
words were circulated among the people, and the Viennese 
say now smilingly, though as yet in a low tone, ‘The King of 
Rome will come as a poor student to Vienna.’ And the same 
words are repeated more boldly by the faithful Tyrolese, the 
guardians of the fires of patriotism. The Italians are whet- 
ting their swords, and France herself is preparing for the 
possibility of a new state of affairs. The military ardor of 
her marshals is exhausted ; like the whole country, they are 
longing for repose; they begin to curse him whom they have 
hitherto idolized; they want peace, and are determined to 
compel Napoleon to comply with their demands.” 

“And is our friend, Baron von Stein, also of this opinion?” 
asked Count Munster, turning to Justus Gruner. 

“Yes, he is,” said Gruner. “When the Emperor Alexan- 
der invited him to come to St. Petersburg, he went thither 
not so much because he needed an asylum, but because he be- 
lieved he could serve the cause of Germany in a more effica- 
cious manner in Russia than anywhere else, and was convinced 
that Alexander needed a firm and energetic adviser to fan his 
hostility to Napoleon, and keep all pacific influences away 
from him. Nothing but a crushing defeat of Napoleon in 
Russia can deliver Germany; Stein feels convinced of it, and 

* Historical. — Vide “ Lebensbilder, ” vol. i., p. 80. 


80 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


therefore he stands as an immovable rock by the side of Alex- 
ander, and never ceases to influence the emperor by soul-stir- 
ring and courageous advice. Here is a letter which Stein 
requested me to deliver to Count Munster.” 

Count Munster took the letter and quickly glanced over it. 
“ Ah,” he exclaimed, joyously, “Stein, too, believes the day 
to be at hand when Germany will and must rise; he, too, 
prophesies that Napoleon will speedily fall. It is, therefore, 
time for us to think of the future, and agree as to the steps 
to be taken. And now I take the liberty of asking the crown 
prince of Sweden what assistance he offers us, and what the 
nations enslaved by Napoleon may hope from him?” 

“ All the assistance which I and my country are able to 
offer,” said the crown prince, ardently. “The king has au- 
thorized me to take all necessary measures for an active cam- 
paign. Already I have chartered transports; the troops 
which are to participate in the campaign have been concen- 
trated in their camps, and will soon march to the various 
points of embarkation. When the German powers call me — 
when it is sure that England entertains honest intentions 
toward us, and will stand faithfully by us, I shall he ready to 
embark with my troops and participate in the great struggle, 
provided that the annexation of Norway to Sweden be guaran- 
teed.” 

“I am authorized to do so in the name of England,” ex- 
claimed Count Munster. 

“ In that case the Swedes will regard this campaign as a 
national affair,” said Bernadotte, “and will joyously rally 
round the banner of their crown prince, who, on his part, 
longs for nothing more than to follow the footsteps of the 
great Gustavus Adolphus, and give Sweden fresh claims to her 
ancient glory and the gratitude of the nations.* I am wait- 
ing for the call of the allied powers to hasten to the point 
where I may do good service.” 

“And so am I,” said the Duke of Brunswick, eagerly. “ I 
have nothing to offer to Germany but my hatred against Na- 
poleon, my burning thirst for vengeance, my name, and my 
sword.” 

“ But those will be the dragon’s teeth, from which, in due 
time, will spring up mail-clad warriors,” exclaimed Munster — 
“ warriors who, with the most ardent enthusiasm, will follow 
the hero whose audacious expedition from the forests of Bohe- 

* Bernadotte’s own words. —Vide “ M6moires d’un Homme d’fitat,” vol. xi, 


THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 


81 


mia to the Weser will never be forgotten by the patriots of 
Germany. Let us prepare every thing as secretly as possible; 
let us enlist soldiers for the great and holy army ; its chief- 
tains are ready; Gneisenau, Frederick William of Brunswick, 
the crowu prince of Sweden, and, in due time, Blucher, 
Schwarzenberg, and Wellington, will join them.” 

“Yes, let us prepare for the great task of the future,” ex- 
claimed Gneisenau. “ I feel now reanimated with hope, 
patience, and courage. I go to London, but not to brood 
over my fate ; I go to enlist an English legion for Germany ; 
to tell the English ministers that the British government can 
take no step more conducive to the liberation of the nations 
and the safety of Great Britain than make Germany the prin- 
cipal seat of war, and transfer thither Wellington, with all 
the troops in Spain, and those which can be spared from the 
islands of the United Kingdom. Let them consider me a 
visionary; the future will, perhaps, prove to them that I was 
right. Oh, a victory over Napoleon in Germany would loosen 
the fetters of all governments, throw the most determined 
efforts of many millions of people into the scales of Great 
Britain, and deliver us, perhaps forever, from the monster 
equalfy terrible in his strength and in his poison.” * 

“And I go to Vienna to influence, together with my 
friends, the patriotic impulses of the emperor,” said Count 
Nugent. “ I go to Austria to tell the noble Archdukes John 
and Charles that they ought to hold themselves in readiness, 
and to inform the Tyrolese that the war of liberation is at 
hand.” 

“ Baron von Stein has sent me to Germany to enlist there 
an intellectual army, and set in motion for Germany not only 
swords but pens,” said Justus Gruner, smiling. “Stein says 
the sword will only do its work when the mind has paved the 
way for it. The mind and the free word, these are the gen- 
erals that must precede the sword, and, before raising an 
army of soldiers, we must raise an army of ideas and minds to 
take the field. And there can be no better mental chieftain 
than noble Baron von Stein. He has placed a worthy adju- 
tant at his side ; I refer to Ernst Moritz Arndt, whom Stein 
has called to St. Petersburg, and who is thence to send his 
patriotic songs into the world, and by his souj-stirring writ- 
ings kindle the ardor of the Germans. I have brought with 
me some of Arndt’s pamphlets that have been printed in St 

* Gneisenau’s own words. — Vide “ Lebensbilder,” vol. i., p. 274. 


82 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Petersburg, and his catechism for German soldiers, which 
gives instructions as to what a Christian warrior ought to be, 
and has been circulated, in spite of Napoleon’s power, in all 
the German divisions of his army. To influence public opin- 
ion in Germany is the task which Stein and the Emperor 
Alexander have intrusted to me. I am to report about every 
thing that takes place in the rear of the French army, and 
try to obtain correct information concerning its reenforcements 
and the condition of the fortresses. My principal task, how- 
ever, will be to direct public opinion, exasperate the people 
against their oppressors, and the accomplices of the latter, 
support isolated risings, and organize flying corps for the pur- 
pose of intercepting the couriers.” * 

“ That is a plan strictly in accordance with the indomitable 
spirit of Baron von Stein. However, the influence and power 
of one person will not suffice to carry it into effect.” 

“I am, therefore, authorized to enlist agents whom the 
Emperor of Russia will pay,” said Gruner. “Hired observers 
and spies must be spread all over Germany. I must every- 
where have my confidants — my agents and instruments. 
Such I have already engaged in some forty cities. I furnish 
them instructions, telling them what to do, in order to par- 
ticipate in the liberation of Germany; they have to send me 
weekly reports, written of course in cipher and with chemical 
ink, and, on my part, I address reports to the Emperor Alex- 
ander and Baron von Stein, which I forward every week by 
special couriers to Russia. My agents, as well as myself, will 
endeavor to hold intercourse with all prominent patriots, and 
our noble Stein has referred me especially to the eminent gen- 
tlemen here assembled. General Scharnhorst, too, is aware 
of our enterprise; President von Yinke supports it in the 
most enthusiastic and active manner, and we find everywhere 
friends, assistance, and advice. Already the net-work is 
spread over the country; this will every day become more im- 
penetrable — a fatal trap in which, if it please God, we shall 
one day catch Bonaparte.” 

“But beware of traitors,” exclaimed Count Nugent, anx- 
iously. “ All your agents are not reticent, for, to tell you the 
truth, I have already heard of your bold scheme, and Austria 
is highly indignant. Count Metternicli, a few days since, 
addressed a complaint to the Prussian cabinet about what he 
calls your revolutionary intrigues, and the Prussian Minister 

*Pertz, “ Life of Baron von Stein,” vol. iii., p. 117. 


THE EUROPEAN CONSPIRACY. 


83 


von Biilow, wlio is friendly to France, is greatly exasperated 
against Justus Gruner and his guerilla warfare. Be on your 
guard, sir, that, while weaving this net-work of conspiracy, 
you may not yourself fall into the snares of the insidious 
police.” 

“ And if I do, what matters it if one dies, provided the 
cause he served lives?” exclaimed Justus Gruner, enthusi- 
astically. “ This sacred cause cannot die ; it is strong enough 
to succeed, even without me. It is spreading everywhere, and 
will remain, though the little spider that wove it should he 
crushed. There is but one part of Germany in which my 
work still lacks the necessary points where I might secure it.” 

“You allude to Austria, do you not?” 

“I do ; there my agents are distrustfully turned away from 
the frontier, and I have so far been unable to enlist special 
and active allies. I pray you, therefore, give me the names 
of some reliable, honest, and faithful men to whom I may 
apply; for I must go to Austria.” 

“That is to say,” exclaimed Count Nugent, “you are going 
to prison. Let me warn you, do not go to Austria ; Metter- 
nich’s spies have keen eyes, and if they catch you, you are 
lost.” 

“I must go to Austria,” said Gruner, smiling; “the cause 
of the fatherland demands it. Dangers will not deter me, 
and if the Austrian police are on the lookout for me — well, I 
have been myself a police-officer, and may outwit them. In 
the first place, however, I shall go to Leipsic, to have the sec- 
ond volume of Arndt’s excellent work, ‘The Spirit of the 
Times,’ secretly printed, and cause a printing-office to be 
established on the Saxon frontier for the purpose of issuing 
the war bulletins which I am to receive from Russia. But 
then I shall go to Prague and Vienna.” 

“And may God grant success to your enterprise!” said 
Count Munster. “We shall all, I am satisfied of it, help in 
carrying out your schemes wherever we can. We will try to 
liberate you if you are imprisoned, and avenge you if killed. 
Shall we not? 7 

“We shall!” exclaimed Gneisenau and Bernadotte, Nugent, 
and Frederick William of Brunswick, and all four offered 
their hands to Gruner. 

“ Henceforth we all act for one, and one for all,” exclaimed 
the Duke of Brunswick, enthusiastically, “ and my noble 
father is looking down and blessing us. Oh, may the hour of 


84 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


liberation soon strike! We have our hands on our swords, 
and wait for Germany to call us.” 

“We are ready, and wait for our country to call us,” they 
said, shaking hands with determined eyes and smiling lips. 

“And now, if the gentlemen have no objection, I will ad- 
journ the conference,” said Count Munster, after a pause. 
“ We well know each other, and what we have to do. Here is 
the cipher in which we may write to each other whenever im- 
portant communications are to be made. Justus Gruner will 
see to it that his agents will promptly forward the letters to 
us.” 

“ I will,” said Justus Gruner, “ and as long as I am not in 
prison, or dead, you may be sure that your letters will not 
fall into the hands of enemies or traitors.” * 

“ And now let us go. God save us and Germany !” 


CHAPTER IX. 

GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 

It was a cold and unpleasant morning in December. The 
dreary sky hung like a pall over the oppressed world. How 
beautiful and fragrant had been the summer park of the estate 
of Kunzendorf ! now it was bereft of its flowers, and the cold 
gray trees were moaning in the winter blasts. How bright 
had been this large room on the lower floor of the mansion of 
Kunzendorf, when the summer morning flung its beams into 
the windows, while a merry company were chatting and laugh- 
ing there! But, on this day, no guests were assembled in it. 
It contained but two persons, an old gentleman and lady. 
The gentleman was sitting at the window and looking out 
mournfully into the cold ; he seemed to count the snow-flakes 
slowly falling. A large military cloak enveloped his tall, 
powerful form; his right leg, encased in a heavy cavalry-boot, 
rested on a cushion; his head was leaning against the high 
back of the easy-chair on which he sat. His Rearing and ap- 
pearance indicated suffering, age, and disease; he who did not 
look at his countenance could not but believe that he was in 

* The pred ctions and apprehensions of Count Nugent were fulfilled but too soon. 
Gruner went as far as Prague, but there he was arrested in the last days of 
October, at the special request of the Prussiau police, deprived of his papers and 
his funds, and sent to an Austrian fortress. The Emperor of Russia succeeded 
only nine months afterward in obtaining his release. — Vide Pertz’s “ Life of Baron 
von Stein,” vol. iii., p. 131. 


GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 


85 


the presence of a sick and decrepit old man; hut when his 
face turned to the beholder, with its large, fiery blue eyes, 
high and scarcely-furrowed brow, Roman nose, and florid 
complexion, he thought he saw the head of a man of about 
fifty years. It is true, the hair which covered his temples in 
a few thin tufts was snow-white, and so was the mustache 
which shaded his mouth and hung down on both sides of it, 
imparting a vigorous and martial expression to the whole face, 
and contrasting with his bronzed cheeks and flashing eyes. 

Opposite him, in the niche of the other window, sat a lady 
in a plain, yet elegant toilet. Small brown ringlets, threaded 
here and there with white, peeped forth from the lace cap, 
trimmed with blue ribbons, and a gray silk dress, reaching to 
the neck, enveloped her slender and graceful form. Her 
countenance, which still showed traces of former beauty, was 
bent over her embroidery, and her white, tapering fingers, 
adorned with many rings, busily plied the needle. 

The old gentleman blew dense clouds of smoke from his 
long clay pipe, and nothing broke the silence save the parrot 
(in a large gilded cage on a marble pedestal in the third 
window-niche), uttering from time to time a loud scream, or 
exclaiming in a sharp voice, “Good-morning!” The ticking 
of the bronze clock on the mantel-piece at the other end of 
the room could be distinctly heard. Suddenly the old gentle- 
man struck the window-board so violently with his right hand 
that the panes rattled, the lady gave a start, and the parrot 
screeched. “Well, now it is all right,” he exclaimed sav- 
agely, — ■“ it snows so thickly that nothing can be seen at a 
distance of twenty yards. The roads will be blocked up 
again, and no one will come to us from Neisse to-day. We 
shall be left alone, and the time will hang as heavily with us 
as with a pug-dog in a bandbox. But,” he exclaimed, jump- 
ing up so hastily that his long clay pipe broke on his knee and 
fell in small pieces on the floor, “ it is all right. If the guests 
from Neisse do not come to me I will go to them.” While 
uttering these words, he fixed his lustrous eyes on the lady, 
and seemed to wait for a reply from her; but she remained 
silent, and seemed to ply her needle even more industriously. 
“ Well,” he asked at last, hesitatingly, “what do you say to 
it, Amelia?” 

“Nothing at all, Blucher,” she replied, without looking at 
him ; “ for you did not ask me about it.” 

“ Why, that is an agreeable addition to this horrible 


8G 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


weather, that my wife should pout!” exclaimed Blucher, 
casting a despairing glance at the sky. He then looked again 
at his wife. She was still bending over her embroidery and 
remained silent. He approached, and seizing both her hands 
with gentle violence, took the embroidery and threw it away. 
“ Why is your attention directed to that old rag, Amelia, in- 
stead of looking at me?” he said, with ill-restrained anger. 
“Wife, you know I am not rude; when with you I am as 
gentle as a lamb ; but you must not pout, Amelia, for that 
makes me angry. And now speak — tell me honestly — what 
is it? What have I done to you!” 

“ Nothing,” she said, fixing her dark eyes upon him with a 
sad expression, “nothing at all!” 

“Aha! you do not want to tell me,” exclaimed Blucher, 
looking at her uneasily, “ but I know it nevertheless. Yes, I 
know what ails you, and why you are in bad humor with me. 
Will you give me a kiss, if I guess what it is?” She nodded, 
and an almost imperceptible smile played around her finely- 
formed lips. “Now, listen,” he said, drawing her to himself, 
and putting his hand under her chin. “ You are angry be- 
casue I came home from Neisse so late last night?” 

“ Last night?” she asked. “ I believe it was at five o’clock 
this morning.” 

“ Yes, I promised you to be back at five o’clock in the 
afternoon, because the doctor said the night air is injurious 
to me, and would increase my pains. But, you see, Amelia, 
it would not do. We went to the ‘Ressource,’ and there I 
met some old friends — ” 

“ And there we played faro,” his wife intrrupted him, “ and 
I lost the two hundred louis d’ors with which I desired to buy 
four new carriage-horses.” 

“ Yes, it is all true,” said Blucher, soothingly. “ But what 
matters it? In the first place, I am quite well, which proves 
what fools the doctors are ; they think they know every thing, 
and, in fact, know nothing. I feel no pain, and yet have in- 
haled the night air. And as to the two hundred louis d’ors 
—well, I am almost glad that I lost them, for I amused my- 
self. Do you know who was among the gamblers? Ex-Major 
von Leesten!” 

“ Major von Leesten?” asked his wife, wonderingly. “ But 
he never plays — he is so sensible a gentleman, that — ” 

“That he does not deal cards, you mean?” interrupted 
Blucher, smiling. “ Yes, you see, I am also a sensible man, 


GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 


87 


but I deal cards sometimes, and, for the rest, to tell you the 
truth, I seduced Major von Leesten to play last night.” 

“That was very wrong,” said Madame von Blucher, in a 
tone of gentle reproach. “ Leesten is poor ; he has a large 
family — five full-grown daughters, who, of course, will not be 
married because they have no fortune. And now you seduce 
the poor man, and he will lose the last penny belonging to his 
family. For the most terrible consequences of this gambling 
passion are, that it deprives men of reflection, attachment to 
their family, and prudence. A man who is addicted to play- 
ing cards,, loves nothing but his cards; every thing else seems 
unimportant to him; see it in your case, Blucher, and it 
makes my heart ache. You do not love me, your time hangs 
heavy in my presence ; the card-table is your only pleasure, 
and I believe, when the passion seizes you, and you have lost 
all your money, you would stake the remainder of your prop- 
erty on a card, and your wife to boot!” 

Blucher burst into loud laughter. “Why,” he exclaimed, 
“what an odd idea that is! I stake you on a card, you — ” 

“ You suppose that no one would care about winning me?” 
asked Madame von Blucher, smiling. 

“ No, I do not think that,” replied Blucher, suddenly growl- 
ing serious. “ Why should no one care about winning you ? 
You are still a very pretty and charming little woman; your 
eyes still flash so irresistibly, your lips are still so red and full, 
and — ” 

“And my hair is beautifully gray,” she interrupted him, 
laughing, “and I am so astonishingly young, scarcely fifty 
years of age!” 

“ Well, that is not so very old,” said Blucher, merrily. “ I 
have read somewhat a story about one Ulysses, who, in times 
gone by, was a very famous and shrewd captain. He set out 
to wage war with the barbarians, and his wife, whose name 
was Penelope, remained at home with his son Telemachus. 
Ulysses was absent for twenty long years, and when he re- 
turned home he found fifty suitors who were all courting his 
beautiful wife Penelope. Do you see, fifty suitors, one for 
every year of Penelope’s age, for she must have been well- 
nigh fifty years old when Ulysses returned, and yet she was 
still beautiful, and men were gallanting about her. Why 
should not the same thing happen to you, as you are scarcely 
forty-eight? And who knows whether the wife of Ulysses was 
as beautiful and good as you? I am sure she was not. For it 


88 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


seems to me you are the dearest and best little woman, and 
look precisely as you did twenty years ago, when you were 
foolish enough to marry that rough old soldier Blucher, who 
was already fifty years of age.” 

“Well, that was not so very foolish,” said Madame von 
Blucher, smiling; “on the contrary, it was very well done, 
and but for those abominable playing-cards, nothing could be 
better.” 

“Ah, the shrewd little general has, by an adroit movement, 
brought us back to the old battle-ground,” exclaimed Blucher. 
“We have arrived again at last night’s faro! Now, tell me 
first of all — did I guess right? Were you not angry with me 
because I returned late?” 

“Yes,” said his wife, “that was the reason.” 

“Hurrah! Just as I thought!” shouted Blucher, jubi- 
lantly. “Now, quick, pay me for my correct guess! You 
know, you were to give me a kiss ! — a kiss such as you used to 
give me twenty years ago!” He encircled his wife with his 
arms, and pressed a long and tender kiss on her lips. 

“ Well, are you pacified now?” he then asked. “I see in 
your eyes that you are, and now, come, I will tell you all that 
occurred last night. You see the money is gone, and what 
matters it! Money is destined to be spent; that is what the 
good Lord gave it to us for, and men made it round that it 
might roll away more rapidly. If it were to remain, they 
would have made it square, when the fingers could hold it 
better. And, then, why should I hold it? We have enough 
— more than enough ; our two daughters are married to rich 
men; our two sons are provided for; our estate atKunzendorf 
will not roll away, for it is not round and brings us lots of 
money, and I am sure there will be a day when I shall win 
very large sums. I do not mean at the gaming-table, Amelia, 
but on the battle-field. I shall reconquer to the king his 
cities and provinces. I shall take from Bonaparte all that he 
has stolen from Prussia; I — ” 

“ You intended to tell me what occurred last night,” inter- 
rupted his wife, who heard him, to her dismay, beginning 
again the philippic against Napoleon which he had repeated 
to her at least a hundred times. 

“ Yes, that is true,” said Blucher, breathing deeply, “I 
wished to tell you about Major von Leesten. At the ‘Res- 
source’ I met yesterday in the afternoon an old friend of his, 
who told me how sad and unhappy Leesten was. His eldest 


GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 


89 


daughter is betrothed to a young country gentleman : the two 
young folks would like to marry, but they have no money. 
If the young man had only a thousand dollars, he might 
rent an estate in this vicinity; but, in order to do so, he 
must give a thousand dollars security, and he is not pos- 
sessed of that sum. Leesten’s friend told me all this, and also 
how disheartened Leesten was. He said he had gone to all sorts 
of usurers, but no one would lend him any thing, because he 
could not furnish security, for he has nothing but his pension. ” 

“ Poor man ! And could not his friends collect the amount 
and give it to him ?” 

“ His friends have not any thing either ! Who has any 
thing? Every one is poor since the accursed French are in 
the country, and Bonaparte — ” 

“ You forget again your story of Major von Leesten, my 
friend.” 

“ Oh, yes. His friends have not any thing either, and even 
if they had, Leesten would not accept presents. No, believe 
me, Amelia, when the poor are exceedingly prond, they would 
die of hunger sooner than accept alms at the hands of a good 
friend, or ask him for a slice of bread and butter. I know 
all about it, for I was poor, too, and starved when my pay 
was spent. And Leesten is proud also; alms and presents he 
would not accept, or if he did, for the sake of his daughter, 
his heart would burst with grief. That was what his friend 
told me; I pitied him, and thought I should like to call on 
the dear major and shake hands with him, that he might feel 
that I like him, and that he has friends, how poor soever he 
may be. Well, I went with his friend to the major. He was 
glad to see us and took pains to be merry, but I saw very well 
that he was sad ; that his laughter was not genuine, and that, 
as soon as some one else spoke, he grew gloomy. But I did 
not ask what ailed him ; I feigned not to see any thing, and 
begged him to accompany us and spend a pleasant evening 
with a few friends. He refused at first to do so, but I suc- 
ceeded in overcoming his resistance, and I am not sorry by 
any means that I did, for the poor major grew quite cheerful 
at last; he forgot his grief, drank some good wine with us, — 
more, perhaps, than he had drunk for a year, and then played 
a little faro with us for the first time in his life. Well, we 
were all in the best spirits, and that was the reason why I re- 
mained so long and came home so late. It was Major von 
Leesten’s fault, and now my story is at an end!” 

7 


90 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“No, it is not!” exclaimed Amelia. “You have not yet 
told me every thing, Blucher. You have not told me who 
won your two hundred louis d’ors for which you intended to 
purchase four new carriage-horses?” 

“Yes, that was curious,” said Blucher, composedly, strok- 
ing his long white mustache — “ that was really curious. 
Leesten had never before handled a card ; he did not know 
the game, and yet he won from such an old gambler as I am 
two hundred louis d’ors in the course of a few hours. Lee- 
stei> won the money that was to pay for the carriage-horses, 
and you may give him thanks for being compelled to drive 
for six months longer with our lame old mares.” 

A sunbeam, as it werej illuminated Amelia’s countenance; 
her eyes shone, and her cheeks were glowing with joy. 
Quickly putting her hands on Bluclier’s shoulders, she looked 
up to him with a smile. “ You made him win the money, 
Gebhard,” she said, in a voice tremulous with emotion. Oh, 
do not shake your head — tell me the truth! You made Lee- 
sten win, because you wished to preserve him from the neces- 
sity of accepting alms. You made him win, that his 
daughter might marry.” 

“Nonsense!” said Blucher, growlingly, “how could I make 
him win when he did not really win? He would have found 
it out, and, besides, I would have been a cheat.” 

“ He did not find it out because you made him drink so 
much wine, and because he knows nothing about the game ; 
and you are no cheat, because you intentionally made him 
win; on the contrary, you are a noble, magnanimous man 
whom Heaven must love. Oh, dear, dearest husband, tell me 
the truth ; let me enjoy the happiness that I have guessed 
right ! You did so intentionally, did you not? The cards did 
not bring so much good luck to Leesten, but Blucher did!” 

“Hush! do not say that so loudly,” exclaimed Blucher, 
looking anxiously around; “if anyone should hear and re- 
peat it, and Leesten should find out how the thing occurred, 
the fellow would return the money to me.” 

“ Ah, now you have betrayed yourself-— you have confessed 
that you lost the money intentionally,” exclaimed Amelia, 
jubilantly. “ Oh, thanks, thanks, my noble and generous 
friend !” She took his hands with passionate tenderness, and 
pressed them to her lips. 

“ But, Amelia, what are you doing?” said Blucher, with- 
drawing his hands in confusion. “ Why, you are weeping!” 


GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 


91 


“Oh, they are tears of joy,” she said, nodding to him with 
a blissful smile — “ tears which I am weeping for my glorious, 
dear Blucher!” 

“Oh, you are too good,” said Blucher, whose face suddenly 
grew gloomy. “ I am nothing but an old, pensioned soldier 
— a rusty sword flung into a corner. I am an invalid whom 
they believe to be childish, because he thinks he might still be 
useful, and the fatherland might need him. But I tell you, 
Amelia, if I ever should become childish it would be on ac- 
count of the course pursued toward me; why, I am dismissed 
from the service; I am refused any thing to do; I am desired 
to be idle, and the king has given me this accursed estate of 
Kunzendorf, not as a reward, nor from love, but to get rid of 
me, and because he is afraid of the French. When he gave 
it to me last spring, he wrote that I ought to set out for 
Kunzendorf immediately, and live and remain there, as it be- 
hooved every nobleman, in the midst of my peasants. But 
his real object was to send me into exile; he did not wish me 
to remain in Berlin!” 

“ Well, he had to comply with the urgent recommendations 
of his ministers,” said Madame von Blucher, smiling. “You 
know very well that all the ministers of the king, with the 
sole exception of Hardenberg, are friends of the French, and 
think that Prussia would be lost if she should not faithfully 
stand by France.” 

“ They are traitors when they entertain such infamous sen- 
timents,” cried Blucher, wildly stamping with his foot; “ they 
should hang the fellows who are so mean and cowardly as to 
think that Prussia would be lost if her mortal enemy did not 
condescend to sustain her. Ah, if the king had listened to 
me only once, we should have long since driven the French 
out of the country, and our poor soldiers would not freeze to 
death in Russia as auxiliaries of Bonaparte. When the danger 
is greatest, every thing must be risked in order to win every 
thing, and when a fellow tries to deceive and insult me, I do 
not consider much whether I had better endure him because 
may be weaker than he is, but, before he suspects it, I knock 
him down if I can. You see, that is defending one’s life ; 
this is what the learned call philosophy. But, dearest 
Amelia, there is but one philosophy in life, and it is this: 
‘He who trusts in God and defends himself bravely will never 
miserably perish.’ Now, the king and his ministers know 
only one-half of this philosophy, and that is the reason why 


92 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the whole thing goes wrong. They mean to trust in God, 
even though, from their blind trust alone, all Prussia fall to 
ruins ; but as for bravely defending themselves, that is what 
they do not understand. It is too much like old Blucher’s 
way of doing things, and that is the reason why the learned 
gentlemen do not like it. Ah! Amelia, when I think of all 
the wretchedness of Prussia, and that I may have to die 
without having chastised Bonaparte — without having wrested 
from him, and flung into his face, the laurels of Jena, Eylau, 
and Friedland — ah, then I feel like sitting down and crying 
like a boy. But Heaven cannot be so cruel ; it will not let 
me die before meeting Bonaparte on the field of battle, and 
avenging all our wrongs upon him. No, I trust I will not die 
before that — and, after all, I am quite young! Only seventy 
years of age! My grandfather died in his ninetieth year, 
and my mother told me often enough that I looked exactly 
like my grandfather ; I shall, therefore, reach my ninetieth 
year. I have still twenty years to live — twenty years, that 
is enough — ” Just then the door opened, and a footman 
entered. 

“ Well, John,” asked Blucher, “what is it? Why do you 
look so merry, my boy? I suppose you have good news for us, 
have you not?” 

“I have, your excellency/* said the footman. “There is 
an old man outside, an invalid, attended by a young fellow 
who, I believe, is his son. The two have come all the way 
from Pomerania, and want to see General von Blucher. He 
says he has important news for your excellency.” 

“Important news?” asked Blucher. “And he comes from 
Pomerania? John, I hope it will not be one who wants to 
tell me the same old story?” 

“ Your excellency, I believe that is what he comes for,” said 
John, grinning. 

“Amelia,” exclaimed Blucher, bursting into loud laughter, 
“ there is another fellow who wants to tell me that he took 
me prisoner fifty years since. I believe it is already the 
seventh rascal who says he was the man. ” 

“ The seventh who wants to get money from you and swin- 
dle you,” said Madame von Blucher, smiling. 

“No, I believe they do not exactly want to swindle me,” 
said Blucher, “ but I know they like to get a little money, 
and as they do not want to beg — ” 

“ They come and lie,” interrupted Amelia, smiling. “ They 


GEBHARD LEBERECHT BLUCHER. 


93 


know already that General Blucher gives a few louis d’ors to 
every one who comes and says, ‘ General, it was I who took 
you prisoner in Mecklenburg in 1760, and brought you to the 
Prussians. You, therefore, are indebted to me for all your 
glory and your happiness. ’ ” 

“ Yes, it is true,” said Blucher, laughing and smoothing 
his mustache. “ That is what all six of them said. But one 
of them did take me prisoner, for the story is true, and if 1 
turn away one of those who tell me the same thing, why, I 
might happen to hit precisely the man who took me, and that 
would he a great shame. Therefore, it is better I imagine a 
whole squadron had taken me at that time, and give money to 
every one who comes to me for it. Even though he may not 
be the man, why, he is at least an old hussar, and I shall 
never turn an old hussar without a little present from my 
door.” * 

“ Well, I see you want to bid welcome to your seventh hero 
and conqueror,” said Amelia, smiling. “Very well, I will 
quit the field and retire into my cabinet. Farewell, my 
friend, and when your hero has taken leave of you, I will 
await you.” She nodded pleasantly to her husband, and left 
the room. 

“ Well, John,” said Blucher, sitting down again on his easy- 
chair at the window, “now let the men come in. But first 
fill me a pipe. You must take a new one, for I broke the 
one I was smoking this morning.” 

John hastened to the elegant “ pipe-board ” which stood be- 
side the fireplace, and took from it an oblong, plain wooden 
box; opening the lid, he drew a new, long clay pipe from it. 

“How many pipes are in it yet?” asked Blucher, hastily. 
“ A good lot, John?” 

“No, your excellency, only seven whole pipes, and eight 
broken ones.” 

“ You may ride to Neisse to-morrow, and buy a box of 
pipes. Now, give me one, and let the hussar and his son 
come in.” 

* Blucher’s own words.— Vide “ Life of Prince Blucher of Wahlstatt, by Varn- 
hagen von Ense, ” p. 8. 


94 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER X. 

RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 

John, the footman, opened the door of the anteroom, and 
shouted in a loud and solemn voice, “ Your excellency, here is 
Hennemann, the hussar, and his son Christian!” 

“Well, come in!” said Blucher, good-naturedly, puffing a 
cloud of smoke from his pipe. 

An old man with silver- white hair, his bent form clad in 
the old and faded uniform of a hussar, and holding his old- 
fashioned shako in his hand, entered the room. He was fol- 
lowed by a young man, wearing the costume of a North- 
German farmer, his heavy yellow hair combed backward and 
fastened with a large round comb; his full, vigorous form 
dressed in a long blue cloth coat, reaching down almost to his 
feet, and lined with white flannel; under it he wore trousers 
of dark-green velvet that descended only to the knees, and 
joined there the blue-and-red stockings in which his legs were 
encased; his feet were armed with thick shoes, adorned with 
buckles, while their soles bristled with large nails. 

“ Where do you come from?” asked Blucher, fixing his eyes 
with a kind expression on the two men. 

“From Rostock, your excellency,” said the old man, mak- 
ing a respectful obeisance. 

“From Rostock?” asked Blucher, joyously. “ Why, that 
is my native city.” 

“I know that very well, general,” said the old hussar, who 
vainly tried to hide his Low-German accent. “ All Rostock 
knows it, too, and every child there boasts of Blucher being 
our countryman.” 

“Well,” said Blucher, smiling, “then you come from Ro- 
stock. Do you live there?” 

“Not exactly in Rostock, your excellency. My daughter 
Frederica is married to a tailor in Rostock, and I was with 
her for four weeks. I myself live at Polchow, a nobleman’s 
estate four miles from Rostock; I am there at the house of my 
eldest son.” 

“Is that your eldest son?” asked Blucher, pointing with 
his clay pipe at the young man, who stood by the side of his 
aged father, and was turning his hat in his hand in an em- 
barrassed manner. 


RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 


95 


“ No, sir, he is my youngest son, and it is just for his sake 
that I have come to you. Christian was a laborer in the ser- 
vice of our nobleman at Polchbw, and he desired to marry a 
girl with whom he had fallen in love. But the nobleman 
w r ould not permit it; he said Christian should wait some ten 
years until there was a house vacant in the village, and some 
of the old peasants had died. This drove him to despair; he 
wanted to commit suicide, and said he would die rather than 
be a day laborer on an estate in Mecklenburg, which is no 
better than being the nobleman’s slave.” 

“Yes,” cried Christian, indignant^, “ that is true, general. 
A day laborer on an estate in Mecklenburg is a slave, that is 
all. The nobleman owns him. If he wants to do so, he may 
disable him, nay, he may kill him. Such a laborer has no 
rights, no will, no property, no home, no country ; he is not 
allowed to live anywhere but in his village; he cannot settle 
in any other place, and is not permitted to marry unless the 
nobleman who owns the village gives his consent, nor can he 
ever be any thing else than what his father and grandfather 
were, that is to say, the nobleman’s' laborers. And I do not 
wish to be such and do nothing else than putting the horses 
to the plough. I want to marry Frederica, and become a free 
man, and if that cannot be I will commit suicide.” 

“Ahem! he has young blood,” said Blucher, well pleased 
and smiling, “fresh Mecklenburgian blood. I like that! 
But you must not abuse Mecklenburg, Christian; I love 
Mecklenburg, because it is my native country.” 

“ It is a good country for noblemen who have money,” said 
Christian, “ but for day laborers who have none it is a poor 
country. And that was the reason why I said to the old 
man, ‘ Vatting * shall I commit suicide or run away and 
enlist.’ ” 

“And I then said, ‘Well, my son, in that case it will be bet- 
ter for you to enlist,’ ” added the old man, “‘and, moreover, 
you shall enlist under a good general. I will show you that my 
life is yet good for something ; I will do for your sake what I 
have purposed to do all my lifetime: I will go to General 
Blucher, tell him whom I am, and ask him to reward my boy 
for what I did for him.’ ” 

Blucher looked with a good-natured smile at the poor old 
man who stood before him in the faded and threadbare uni- 
form of a private soldier. 

* “ Vatting,” Low-German for “papa.” 


96 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Well, my old friend,” he said, “what have you done for 
me, then?” 

The old man raised his head, and a solemn expression over- 
spread his bronzed and furrowed countenance. “General,” 
he said, gravely, “ it was I who took you prisoner in Mecklen- 
burg in 1760, and to me, therefore, you are indebted for all 
your glory and happiness.” 

Blucher covered his face with his hands, that the old man 
might not see his smile. “ It is just as Amelia told me it 
would be,” he said to himself. He then added aloud : “ Well, 

tell me the story, that I may see whether it was really you 
who took me prisoner.” 

“ It is a long story,” said the old man, sighing, “and if I 
am to tell it, I must ask a favor of your excellency.” 

“Well, what is it? Speak, my old friend,” said Blucher, 
puffing a cloud from his pipe, and satisfied that the old hus- 
sar would apply to him for money. 

“ I must beg leave to sit down, general,” said the old man, 
timidly. “ We have come on foot all the way from Rostock, 
and it is only fifteen minutes since we reached this village. 
We took only time enough at the tavern to change our dress; 
I put on my uniform, and Christian put on his Sunday coat. 
I am eighty years old, general, and my legs are not as strong 
as they used to be.” 

“Eighty years old!” exclaimed Blucher, jumping up, 
“ eighty years old, and you have come on foot all the way 
from Rostock ! Why, that is impossible ! Christian, tell me, 
that cannot be true!” 

“Yes, general, it is true. W^e have been on the way for 
three weeks past, for the old man cannot walk very fast, and 
we had not money enough to ride. We had to be thankful 
for having enough to pay for our beds at the taverns. And 
my father is more than eighty years of age ! We have brought 
his certificate of birth with us.” 

“ Eighty years of age, and he came on foot all the way from 
Rostock, and I allow the old man to stand and offer him no 
chair!” exclaimed Blucher, — “I do not ask whether he is 
hungry and thirsty ! John! John!” And Blucher rushed to 
the bell-rope and rang the bell so violently that John entered 
the room in great excitement. “John, quick!” shouted 
Blucher. “ Quick, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and bread, 
butter, and ham; and tell them in the kitchen to prepare a 
good dinner for these men, and have a room with two beds 


RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 


97 


made ready for them in the adjoining house. Quick, John! 
In five minutes the wine and the other things must be here! 
Run!” 

John hastened out of the room, and Blucher approached the 
old man, who looked on, speechless and deeply moved by the 
kind zeal the general had displayed in his behalf. 

“ Come, my dear friend,” said Blucher, kindly, taking him 
by the hand and conducting him across the room to his favor- 
ite seat at the window. “ There, sit down on my easy-chair 
and rest.” 

“ Mo, general, no ; that would be disrespectful !” 

“Fiddlesticks!” replied Blucher; “an octogenarian is en- 
titled to more respect than a general’s epaulets are. Now do 
not refuse, but sit down!” And with his vigorous arms he 
pressed him into the easy-chair. He then quietly took his 
clay pipe from the window, and sat down on a cane chair op- 
posite the old hussar. “And now tell me the story of my 
arrest as a prisoner. I promise you that I will believe it all.” 

“General, you may believe nothing but what is true,” re- 
plied the old man, solemnly. ' 

Blucher nodded. “Commence,” he said, “hut no — wait a 
while! There is John with the wine and the bread and 
butter. Now eat and drink first.” 

“ I cannot eat, for I am not hungry. But, if the general 
will permit me, I will drink a glass of wine.” 

“Come, John, two glasses! — fill them to the brim! And 
now, my friend, let us drink. Here’s to our native country!” 
Blucher filled his glass with claret; his eyes flashed, and his 
face kindled with the fire of youth, when he, the young 
septuagenarian, touched with his glass that of the feeble octo- 
genarian. “Hurrah, my old countryman,” he shouted, jubi- 
lantly, “ long live Mecklenburg ! long live Rostock and the 
-shore of the Baltic ! Now empty your glass, my friend, and 
you, John, fill it again, and then put the wine and the bread 
and butter on the table beside the fireplace, that Christian may 
help himself. Eat and drink, Christian, but do not stir, or 
say a word, for we two old ones have to speak with each 
other. Now tell me the story, my old friend!” 

“ Well,” said the old man, putting down his empty glass, 
“ I had run away from my parents because I was just in the 
same difficulty as Christian: I did not wish to remain a day 
laborer. I also wanted to marry, and the nobleman would 
not let me. Well, I ran away, and enlisted in Old Fritz’s 


98 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


army, in Colonel Belling’s regiment of hussars. It was in 
1760; we bad a great deal to do at that time; we were every 
day skirmishing with the Swedes, for we were stationed in 
Mecklenburg, and the Swedes were so dreadfully bold as to 
make raids throughout Brandenburg and Mecklenburg. One 
day, I believe it was in August, 1760, just when we, Belling’s 
hussars, occupied the towpath close to Friedland in Mecklen- 
burg, another detachment of Swedish hussars approached to 
harass us. They were headed by a little ensign — a handsome 
young lad, scarcely twenty years of age, a very impertinent 
baby! And this young rascal rode closely to the old hussars, 
and commenced to crow in his sweet little voice, abusing us, 
and told us at last, if we were courageous enough, to come 
on; he had not had his breakfast, he said, and would like to 
swallow about a dozen of Belling’s hussars. Well, the other 
hussars rejoiced in the pluck of the young fellow, and a hand- 
some lad lie was, with clear blue eyes and red cheeks. But 
his saucy taunts irritated me, and when the little ensign con- 
tinued laughing, and telling us we were cowards, I became 
very angry, galloped up to him and shouted: ‘Now, you 
little imp, I will kill you !’ ” 

“ Sure enough,” exclaimed Blucher, in surprise, “ that was 
what the hussar shouted. It seems to me as though I hear it 
still sounding in my ears. But none of the other hussars told 
me this; it is new, and it is true. Hennemann, could it be 
possible that you should really be the man who took me 
prisoner at that time?” 

“Listen to the remainder of my story, general, and you 
will soon find out whether it was I or not. I galloped up to 
him, and while the Prussians and Swedes were fighting, I 
fixed my eyes on my merry little ensign ; when I was quite 
close to him, I shot down his horse. The ensign was unable 
then to offer much resistance, and, besides, I was a very 
strong, active man. I took him by the collar and put him 
on my horse in front of me.” 

“And the ensign submitted to that without defending 
himself?” asked Blucher, angrily. 

“ By no means ! On the contrary, he was as red in the face 
as a crawfish, and resisting struck me. I held his arms fast, 
but he disengaged himself with so violent a jerk that the yel- 
low facings of his right sleeve remained in my hand.” 

“ That is true,” exclaimed Blucher. 

“Yes, it is true,” said the old man, calmly;, “but it is 


RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 


99 


true also that I got hold again of the ensign and took him to 
Colonel von Belling, to whom I stated that I had captured 
the handsome lad. The colonel liked his face and courageous 
bearing; he kept the Swedish ensign at his headquarters, 
where he appointed him cornet the next day, and made the 
little Ensign Blucher apply to the Swedes for permission to 
quit their service.” 

“And I got my discharge,” exclaimed Blucher, quite ab- 
sorbed in his reminiscences, “ and became a Prussian soldier. 
Good, brave Colonel Belling bought me the necessary equip- 
ment, and appointed me his aide-de-camp and lieutenant. 
The Lord have mercy on his dear soul ! Belling was an excel- 
lent man, and I am indebted to him for all I am.” 

“No, general,” said Hennemann, “it is to me that you are 
indebted, for if I had not taken you prisoner at that time — ” 

“Sure enough,” exclaimed Blucher, laughing, “if you had 
not taken me prisoner, I should now be a poor old pensioned 
Swedish veteran. But you certainly took me prisoner, I 
really believe you did!” 

“I have the proofs that I did,” said the old man solemnly. 
“ Christian!” 

“Here I am, vatting,” said Christian, rising. “What do 
you want?” 

“ Give me the memorandum-book with the papers.” 

Christian drew from his blue coat a red morocco memoran- 
dum-book and handed it to his father. “Here, vatting,” he 
said, “ every thing is in it, the certificate of birth, the enlist- 
ment paper, the discharge, and the other thing. ” 

“I just want to get the other thing,” said the old man, 
opening the memorandum-book, “and here it is!” He took 
out a yellow piece of cloth and handed it to Blucher. 

“It is a piece of my sleeve!” exclaimed Blucher, joyously, 
holding up the piece of cloth. “Yes, Hennemann, it was 
really you who took me prisoner, and I am indebted to you 
for being a Prussian general to-day! And I promise you that 
I will now pay you a good ransom. Give me your hand, old 
fellow ; we ought to remain near each other. Eifty-two years 
since you took me prisoner, but now I take you prisoner in 
turn, and you must remain with me; you shall live at ease, 
and at times in the evening you must tell me of Mecklenburg, 
and how it looks there, and of Rostock, and — well, and when 
you are in good spirits, you must sing to me a Low-German 
song!” 


100 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Mercy!” exclaimed the old man, in dismay; “I cannot 
sing, general. I am eighty years old, and old age has dried 
up the fountain of my song.” 

“Sure enough, you are eighty years old,” said Blucher, 
puffing his pipe, “ and at that age few persons are able to 
sing. But I should really like to hear again a merry native 
song. I have not heard one for fifty years, for here, you see, 
Hennemann, people are so stupid and ignorant as not even to 
understand Low-German.” 

“I believe that,” said the old man, gravely, “and it is not 
so easy to understand — one must be a native of Mecklenburg 
to understand it.” 

“It is a pity that you cannot sing,” said Blucher, sighing. 

“But, perhaps Christian can,” said old Hennemann. 
“ Tell me, Christian, can you sing?” 

“Yes, vatting,” replied Christian, clearing his throat. 

“‘Vatting!’” exclaimed Blucher. “What does that 
mean?” 

“ Well, it means that he loves his father, and therefore calls 
him, in good Mecklenburg style, ‘vatting.’ ” 

“Sure enough, I remember now,” exclaimed Blucher. 
“ Vatting ! mutting ! * Yes, yes ; I have often used these words, 
‘mutting — my mutting!’ Ah, it seems to me as though I be- 
hold the beautiful blue eyes of my mother when she looked at 
me so mildly and lovingly and said, ‘You are a wild, reckless 
boy, Gebhard; I am afraid you will come to grief!’ Then I 
used to beg her, ‘ My mutting, my mutting ! I will no longer 
be a bad boy! I will not be naughty! Do not be angry any 
more, my mutting!’ And she always forgave me, and inter- 
ceded for me with my father, whenever he was incensed 
against me, and scolded me, because, instead of studying my 
books and going to school, I was always loitering about the 
fields or hunting in the woods. At last, when I was fourteen 
years old, and was still an incorrigible scapegrace, they sent 
me to the island of Riigen, to my sister, who was married to 
Baron von Krackwitz. But I did not stay there very long. 
The Swedes came to the island, and I could not withstand 
the desire to become a soldier ; therefore, I ran away from 
the island and enlisted in the Swedish army. Well, I had to 
do so, I could not help it, for it was in my nature. Up to 
that time I was like a fish on dry land, moving his tail in 
every direction without crushing a fly; when I got into the 

* “Mutting,” mamma. 


RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 


101 


water it was all right. If I had been kept much longer out, 
I would have died very soon.* When I was now in the water 
— that is to say, when I was a soldier, I lost my mother ; I 
never saw her again, and know only that she wept a great deal 
for me. And I never was able to beg her to forgive me, and 
tell her, ‘Do not be angry, my dear mutting!’ I was a dash- 
ing young soldier, and she was weeping for me at Rostock, 
for she believed I would come to grief. Well, I was first lieu- 
tenant in some Prussian fortress when they wrote to me that 
my mother was dead. Yes, she had died and I was not at her 
bedside ; I was never able to say to her for the last time, 
‘Forgive me, my mutting!’ But now I say so from the bot- 
tom of my heart.” While uttering these words, Blucher 
raised his head and fixed his large eyes with a touching and 
childlike expression on the wintry sky.” 

Old Hennemann devoutly clasped his hands, and tears ran 
slowly down his furrowed cheeks. Christian stood at the 
door, and dried his eyes with his coat-sleeve. 

“Thunder and lightning,” suddenly exclaimed Blucher, 
“ how foolish I am ! That is the consequence of being ab- 
sorbed in one’s recollections. While talking about Mecklen- 
burg I had really forgotten that I am an old boy of seventy 
years, and thought I was still the naughty young rascal who 
longed to ask his mutting to forgive him! Well, Christian, 
now sing us a Low-German song.” 

“I know hut one song,” said Christian, hesitatingly. “It 
is the spinning-song which my Frederica sang to me in the 
spinning-room.” 

“Well, sing your spinning-song,” said Blucher, looking at 
his pipe, which was going out. 

Christian cleared his throat, and sang : 

Spinn doch, spinn doch, min liitt lewes Dochting, 

Ick schenk Di ock’n poor hiibsche Schoh ! 

Ach Gott, min lewes, lewes Mutting, 

Wat helpen mi de hubschen Schoh ! 

Kann danzen nich, un kann nich spinnen, 

Denn alle mine teigen Finger, 

De dohn mi so weh, 

De dohn mi so weh ! 

Spinn doch, spinn doch, min liitt, lewes Dochting, 

Ick schenk Di ock’n schbn Stuck Geld. 

Ach Gott, min lewes, lewes Mutting, 

Ick wull, ick wihr man ut de Welt, 

Kann danzen nich, un kann nich spinnen, 

Denn alle mine teigen Finger, 

De dohn mi so weh, 

De dohn mi so weh ! 


* Blucher ’s own words. 


102 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Spinn cloch, spinn doch, min liitt, lewes Dochting. 
Ick schenk Di ock’n hiibschen Mann ! 

Ach ja, min lewes, lewes Mutting, 

Schenk min lewsten, besten Mann. 

Kann danzen nu, un kann ock spinnen, 

Denn alle mine teigen Finger, 

De dohn nich mihr web, 

De dohn nich mihr weh ! * 


“ A very pretty song,” said Blucher, kindly. “And I be- 
lieve I heard the girls sing it when I was a boy. Thank yon, 
Christian, you have sung it very well. But, tell me now, old 
Hennemann, what is to become of Christian? You yourself 
shall remain here at Knnzendorf, and I will see to it that you 
are well provided for. But what about Christian?” 

“He is anxious to enlist, general,” said Hennemann, 
timidly, “ and that is the reason why I brought him to your 
excellency. I wanted to request you to take charge of him, 
and make out of him as good a soldier as you are your- 
self.” 

Blucher smiled. “I have been successful, he said, “but 
those were good days for soldiers. Now, however, the times 
are very unfavorable; the Prussian soldier has nothing to do, 
and must quietly look on while the French are playing the 
mischief in Prussia.” 

“No, general,” said Hennemann, “it seems to me the 
Prussian soldier has a great deal to do.” 

“Well, what do you think he has to do?” asked Blucher. 


* Spin, spin, my little daughter, dear ! 

A pretty pair of shoes for thee ! — 
Alas, my mother ! let me hear 
What use are pretty shoes to me ! 

I cannot dance— I cannot spin : 

And why these promised shoes to win ! 
O mother mine, I will not take 
Thy kindly gift. My fingers ache ! 


Spin, spin, my litte daughter dear ! 

And a bright silver-piece is thine ! — 
Alas, my mother’s loving care 
Makes not this shining money mine 1 
I cannot dance — I cannot spin; 

What use such wages thus to win? 

O mother dear ! I cannot take 
This silver, for my fingers ache. 


Spin, spin, my little daughter dear ! 

For thee a handsome husband waits. — 
Oh, then, my mother, have no fear; 

My heart this work no longer hates, 
Now can I dance, and also spin, 

A handsome husband thus to win. 

Thy best reward I gladly take ! 

No more — no more, my fingers ache. 


RECOLLECTIONS OF MECKLENBURG. 


103 


“To expel the French from Prussia, that is what he has to 
do,” said the old man, raising his voice. 

“ Yes,” said Blucher, smiling, “ if that could he done, I 
should like to be counted in.” 

“ It can be done, general ; every honest man says so, and it 
ought to he, for the French are behaving too shamefully. 
They must be expelled from Germany. Well, then, my 
Christian wishes to assist you in doing so; he wishes to be- 
come a soldier, and help you to drive out the French.” 

“ Alas, he must apply to some one else if he wishes to do 
that,” said Blucher, mournfully. “I cannot help him, for 
they have pensioned me. I have no regiments. I — but, 
thunder and lightning ! what is the matter with my pipe to- 
day? The thing will not burn.” And he put his little finger 
into the bowl, and tried to smoke again. 

“ The pipe does not draw well, because it was not skilfully 
filled,” said Christian. “I know it was badly filled.” 

“Ay?” asked Blucher. “What do you know? John has 
been filling my pipes for four years past.” 

“John has done it very poorly,” said Christian, composedly. 
“ To fill such a clay pipe is an art with which a good many 
are not familiar, and when it is smoked for the first time it 
does not burn very well. It ought first to be smoked by some 
one, and John ought to have done so yesterday if the general 
wished to use his pipe to-day.” 

“ Why, he knows something about a clay pipe,” exclaimed 
Blucher, “ and he is right ; it always tastes better on the sec- 
ond day than on the first.” 

“ That is the reason why the second day always ought to be 
the first for General Blucher,” said Christian. 

“He is right,” exclaimed Blucher, laughing, “ it would 
surely be better if the second were always the first day. Well, 
I know now what is to be made of Christian ; he is to become 
my pipe-master.” 

“ Pipe-master?” asked old Hennemann and Christian at 
the same time. “ Pipe-master, what is that?” 

“That is a man who keeps my pipes in good order,” said 
Blucher, with a ludicrously grave air — “a man who makes 
the second my first day — who smokes my pipes first — puts 
them back into the box at night, preserves the broken ones, 
and fills them, however short they may be. He who does not 
prize a short pipe, does not deserve to have a long one. A 
good pipe and good tobacco are things of the highest impor- 


104 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


tance in life. Ah! if, in 1807, at Liibeck, I had had 
powder for the guns and tobacco for my men, I would have 
raised such clouds that the French could not have stood. * 
Well, Christian, you shall therefore become my pipe-master, 
and I hope you will faithfully perform the, duties of your 
office. ” 

“I shall certainly take pains to do so,” said Christian, 
“ and you may depend on it, general, that I shall preserve the 
broken, short pipes; I will not throw them away before it is 
necessary. But suppose there should be war, general, and 
you should take the field, what would become of me in that 
case?” 

“Well, in that case you will accompany me,” said Blucher. 
“ What should I do in the field if I could not get a good pipe 
of tobacco all the time? Without that I am of no account. f 
But it is necessary to do good service for Prussia, and hence I 
need, above all, a good pipe of tobacco in the field. Well, 
then, tell me now plainly, will you accept the office I offer 
you in peace and in war, Christian?” 

“Yes, general,” said Christian, solemnly. “And I swear 
that General Blucher shall never lack a well-lighted pipe, 
even though I fetch a match from the French gunners to 
kindle it.” 

“ That is right, Christian ; you are in my service now, and 
may at once enter upon the duties of your office. You, 
Hennemann, stay here and do me the favor of living as long 
and being as merry as possible. Now, pipe-master, ring the 
bell!” 

The new pipe-master rang the bell, and John entered the 
room. 

“John!” said Blucher, “I owe a reparation of honor to 
this aged hussar. It was he who took me prisoner in 1760. 
He brought me the proof of it — the yellow facing of the sleeve 
here. Take it and fasten it to the old uniform of Blucher, 
the Swedish ensign, which I have always preserved ; it belongs 
to it. You see that hussar Hennemann is an honest man, and 
that I owe him the ransom. He will stay here, and have 
nothing to do but eat and drink well, sit in the sun, and, in 
the evening, when it affords him pleasure, tell you stories of 
the Seven Years’ War, in which he participated. If other 
hussars come and tell you they took me prisoner, you know it 

* Blucher’s own words.— Vide “ Marshall Forward,” a popular biography. 

t Blucher’s own words. 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


105 


is not true, and need not admit them. But you must not 
abuse the poor old fellows for that reason, nor tell them that 
they are swindlers. You will give them something to eat and 
drink, a bed overnight, and, in the morning, when they set 
out, a dollar for travelling expenses. Now take the old man 
and his son to the adjoining building, and tell the inspector 
to give them a room where they are to live. And then,’' 
added Blucher, hesitatingly, and almost in confusion, — “ you 
have too much to do, John; you must have an assistant. It 
takes you too much time to fill my pipes, and this young man, 
therefore, will help you. I have appointed Christian Henne- 
mann my pipe-master. Well, do not reply — take the two men 
to the building, and be good friends — do you hear, good 
friends!” 

John bowed in silence, and made a sign to the two Meck- 
lenburgians to follow him. Blucher gazed after them with 
keen glances. “ Well, I am afraid their friendship will not 
amount to much,” he said, smiling and stroking his beard. 
“John does not like this pipe-master business, and will show 
it to Christian as soon as an opportunity offers. I do not care 
if they do have a good fight. It would be a little diversion, 
for it is horribly tedious here. Ah, how long is this to last? 
How long am I to sit here and wait until Prussia and the king 
call upon me to drive Napoleon out of the country? How 
long am I to be idle while Bonaparte is gaining one victory 
after another in Russia? I have not much time to spare for 
waiting, and — well,” he suddenly interrupted, himself, 
quickly stepping up to the window, “ what is that? Is not 
that a carriage driving into the court-yard?” Yes, it really 
is, just entering the iron gate, and rolling with great noise 
across the pavement. “ I wonder who that is?” muttered 
Blucher, casting a piercing glance into the carriage which 
stopped at this moment in front of the mansion. He uttered 
a cry of joy, and rah out of the room with the alacrity of a 
youth. 


CHAPTER XI. 

GLAD TIDINGS. 

“It is he, it is he!” exclaimed General Blucher, rushing 
out of the front door, and hastening with outstretched arms 
toward the gentleman, who, wrapped in a Russian fur robe, 
8 


106 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


alighted with his two servants. “My beloved Scharnhorst!” 
And he clasped his friend in his arms as if it were some longed- 
for mistress whom he was pressing to his bosom. 

“ Blucher, my dear friend, let me go, or yon will choke 
me!” exclaimed Scharnhorst, laughing. “ Come, let us go 
into the house.” 

“Yes, come, dearest, best friend!” said Blucher, and en- 
circling Scharnhorst’s neck with his arm, drew him along so 
hastily that, gasping for breath, the latter was scarcely able to 
accompany him. 

On entering the sitting-room, Blucher himself divested his 
friend of his fur robe, and, throwing it on the floor in his 
haste, took off Scharnhorst’s cap. “ I must look at you, my 
friend,” he exclaimed. “I must see the face of my dear 
Scharnhorst, and now that I see it, I must kiss it! To see 
you again does me as much good as a fountain in the desert 
to the pilgrim dying of thirst.” 

“Well, but now you must allow me to say a word,” said 
Scharnhorst. “And let me look at yourself. Remember, it 
is nearly a year since I saw anything of you but your hand- 
writing.” 

“And that is very illegible,” said Blucher, laughing. 

“ It is at least not as legible and intelligible as your dear 
face,” said Scharnhorst. “Here, on this forehead and in 
these eyes, I can read quickly and easily all that your excel- 
lent head thinks, and your noble heart feels. And now I read 
there that I am really welcome, and need' not by any means 
apologize for not having announced my visit to you.” 

“Apologize!” exclaimed Blucher. “You know full well 
that you afford me the most heart-felt joy, and that I feel as 
though spring were coming with all its blessed promises.” 

“ Well, let us not wish spring to come too early this year. 
We need a good deal of ice and cold weather, to build a crystal 
palace for Bonaparte in Russia.” 

Blucher cast a flashing glance upon his guest. Scharn- 
horst,” he asked, breathlessly, “you have come to bring me 
important news, have you not? Oh, pray, speak! I am sure 
you have come to tell me that the time has come for rising 
against the French!” 

“No; I have simply come to see you,” said Scharnhorst, 
smiling. “ And you are in truth a cold-hearted friend to 
think any other motive was required than that of friendship.” 

“ I thought it was time for Providence to bring about a 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


107 


change. But it was kind of you to come to me merely for 
my sake, and, moreover, in weather so cold as this, and at 
your age.” 

“At my age!” exclaimed Scharnhorst, smiling. 

“ Why, yes, my friend, at your age. If I am not mistaken, 
you must be well-nigh sixty, and at that time of life travel- 
ling in a season like this is assuredly somewhat unpleasant, 
and — but why do you laugh?” 

“As you refer to my age, my dearest friend, I suppose you 
will permit me to speak of yours?” 

“Why not? We are no marriageable girls on the lookout 
for husbands.” 

“Well, then, my dear General Blucher, how old are you?” 

“I? I am a little over seventy.” 

“ And I am fifty-six, and yet you think old age is weighing 
me down, while a wreath of snow-drops is overhanging your 
brow.” 

“Yes, that is true,” said Blucher, in confusion. “I had 
really forgotten my age.” 

“ The reason is, that your heart is still young and fresh,” 
exclaimed Scharnhorst, looking at him tenderly, and laying 
his hand on Blucher’s broad shoulder. “Thank God! you 
are still young Blucher, with his fiery head and heroic arm — 
young Blucher whose eagle eye gazes into the future, and who 
does not despair, however disheartening the present may be.” 

“ I am sure you have brought news,” said Blucher. “ I can 
see it in your eyes — Heaven knows whether good or bad. But 
you have news, I know it.” 

“No, my young firebrand,” exclaimed Scharnhorst, “I 
bring only myself, and this self I should like now above all to 
lay at the feet of your respected wife.” 

“Yes, that is true,” said Blucher; “in my joy I almost 
forgot that my Amelia ought to share it. Come, general, let 
me conduct you to my wife.” He took Scharnhorst’s arm 
and conducted him rapidly across the sitting-room toward the 
apartments of Madame von Blucher. “Tread softly; you 
know what an admirer of yours my wife is, and how glad she 
will be to see you. We will, therefore, surprise her. She 
doubtless did not notice your arrival, for her windows open 
upon the garden. She does not yet know that you are here, 
and how glad she will be! Hush!” 

He glided to the door and rapped. “Amelia,” he said, 
“are you there, and may I come in?” 


108 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


“Of course I am here,” exclaimed Madame von Blucher, 
“ and you know well that I have already been looking for you 
for two hours past. Come in!” 

“ I have a visitor with me; do you allow me to enter with 
him, Amelia?” 

“ A visitor?” asked Madame von Blucher, opening the door. 
“General von Scharnhorst!” she exclaimed, hastening to him 
and offering him both her hands. “Welcome, general, and 
may Heaven reward you for the idea of visiting an old woman 
and her young husband in their wintry solitude. Come, gen- 
eral, do my room the honor of entering it.” She took the 
general’s arm and drew him in. 

“Scharnhorst,” said Blucher, “let me give you some good 
advice. Do not make love in too undisguised a manner to 
my wife, for she is right in saying that I am still a young 
man, and I may become jealous; that would be a pity! I 
should then have to fight a duel with my friend, and one of 
us would have to die; and yet we are destined to deliver Prus- 
sia, and to drive that hateful man Bonaparte out of Germany.” 

“ See, madame, what a shrewd and self-willed intriguer he 
is!” exclaimed Scharnhorst. “He avails himself of the 
boundless adoration I feel for you to assist him in wandering 
into his favorite sphere of politics. Madame, the barbarian 
believes it to be altogether impossible that I come merely from 
motives of friendship, and insists that it was politics that 
brought me!” 

“Yes,” said Madame von Blucher, smiling, “Blucher loves 
politics, he has no other mistress.” 

“No,” said Blucher, laughing, “I know nothing at all 
about politics, and believe the world would be better off if 
there were no politicians. They originate all our troubles. 
Those diplomatists are always sure to spoil what the sword has 
achieved. Politics have brought all these calamities upon 
Germany ; otherwise, we should long since have risen against 
the French, instead of allowing our soldiers to fight for Bona- 
parte in Russia. I say it is absurd, and I am so angry at it 
that it will make me consumptive. I say all those diplo- 
matists ought to be sent into the field against Russia in order 
to study new-fangled politics in Siberia. I say — ” 

“ You will say nothing further about the matter, my friend, 
for there is John, who wishes to tell us that dinner is ready,” 
Madame von Blucher interrupted her husband, who, glowing 
with anger, and trembling with excitement, was fighting with 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


109 


his arms in the air and with a terrible expression of counte- 
nance. “ Come, general, let us go to the dining-room,” said 
Madame von Blucher, giving her hand to Scharnhorst. “ And 
you, my valorous young husband, give me your hand, too!” 

“Wait a moment/’ Blucher replied. “I must first give 
vent to my anger, or it will choke me.” At a bound, he 
rushed as a passionate boy toward the sofa, and, striking it 
with both fists, so that the dust rose from it in clouds, 
shouted: “ Have I got you at length, you horrible butcher — 
are you at length under my scourge? Now you shall find out 
how Pomeranians whip their enemies, and what it is to treat 
people as shamefully as you have done. I will whip you — 
yes, until you cry, ‘ Pater , peccavi V There, take that for 
Jena, and this blow for compelling me to capitulate at Lu- 
beck ; and this and this for the infamies you have perpetrated 
upon our beautiful queen at Tilsit! This last blow take for 
the Russian treaty to which you compelled our king to accede, 
and now a few more yet ! If Heaven does not strike you, 
Blucher must; you ought not to be left unpunished!” 

“Ah, well, that is enough, my friend,” exclaimed Amelia, 
hastening to him and seizing his arm, which he had already 
raised again. “You are very capable of destroying my sofa, 
and you believe that you have gained a campaign by tearing 
my beautiful velvet in shreds.” 

“Well, yes, it is enough now, and I feel better. Well, my 
friend,” he said, turning to Scharnhorst, who had witnessed 
his foolish antics with a grave and mournful air, “you need 
not look at me in so melancholy a manner. I suppose they 
have told you, too, that old Blucher at times gets crazy, and 
strikes at the flies on the wall, and beats chairs and sofas, be- 
cause, in his insanity, he believes them to be Napoleon.* But 
it is assuredly no madness that makes me act in this manner, 
as stupid fools assert, but it is simply a way in which I relieve 
my anger, that it may not break my heart. It is the same as 
if a man who has to fight a duel should take fencing-lessons, 
and practise with the sword, in order to hit his adversary. 
But I have satisfied my anger, and will again be as gentle as 
a lamb.” 

“ Yes, as a lamb which reverses the order of things, and, 
instead of allowing the wolf to devour it, is quite ready to 
devour the wolf,” said Scharnhorst, laughing. 

* Owing to this peculiarity and the strange ebullitions of rage in which he in- 
dulged from time to time, Blucher was really believed to be deranged for several 
years previous to the outbreak of the war of liberation. 


110 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Let us go to dinner, generals,” cried Amelia; “but on 
one condition! During the repast not a word must be said 
about my hateful rival, politics, nor will you be permitted to 
sprinkle Napoleon as cayenne pepper over our dishes. 
Blueher is too hot-blooded, and pepper does not agree with 
him.” 

“ But a glass of champagne agrees with him when a dear 
friend is present,” exclaimed Blueher. “Oh, John, come 
here! Accompany my wife, Scharnhorst; I have only to tell 
John what he is to fetch from the wine-cellar.” 

While Blueher gave his orders to John in a hurried and low 
voice, instructing him to place a substantial battery of bottles 
of champagne in front of the two generals, Scharnhorst pre- 
ceded him with Madame von Blueher to the dining-room. 

“ Madame von Blueher,” whispered Scharnhorst, after satis- 
fying himself by a quick side glance that Blueher was too far 
from them to overhear his words, “ permit me to ask a ques- 
tion. Is your husband strong and healthy enough, both 
physically and mentally, for me to talk to him about politics? 
May I communicate to him some important news which I 
have received to-day, or would I thereby excite him too 
much?” 

“ Do you bring glad tidings?” asked Amelia. 

“ I believe we may consider them so; at all events, they are 
encouraging.” 

“ In that case, general, you may unhesitatingly communi- 
cate them ; but, pray, do so only after dinner, and when he 
has somewhat recovered from the excitement with which 
your welcome but unexpected visit has filled him. Blucher’s 
mind is perfectly strong and healthy, but his body is feeble, 
and he is still, affected with a disease of the stomach, which, 
precisely at dinner, very often gives him severe pain. Pray, 
therefore, no excitement and no politics at the dinner-table.” 

“So, here I am,” said Blueher, who had followed them, 
and now took the general’s arm; “now, children, quick, for 
I long to take wine again with my dear Scharnhorst.” 

Scharnhorst faithfully complied with the wishes of Madame 
von Blueher. No allusion to politics was made during the 
dinner, and their conversation was harmless, merry, and de- 
sultory. They left the dining-room, and took coffee in the 
cozy sitting-room of Madame von Blueher. 

“And now,” said Blueher, who was sitting on the sofa by 
the side of Scharnhorst, while his wife sat in the easy-chair 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


Ill 


opposite them, “let us fill our pipes, or rather smoke them, 
for they have already been filled.” 

“ But shall we be permitted to do so in your wife’s room?” 
asked Scharnhorst. 

“ Oh, I have been accustomed to it for twenty years past,” 
exclaimed Amelia, laughing. “ When I wished to have 
Blucher in my room, and by my side, I could not show the 
door to his pipe; and therefore, as a good soldier’s wife, I 
have accustomed myself to the odor of tobacco-smoke.” 

“Well,” said Blucher, pointing to the two clay pipes which 
lay on the silver tray beside the burning wax-candle and the 
cup filled with paper-kindlers, “ take a match and fire the 
cannon; luckily it makes no noise, but only smoke.” 

Madame von Blucher handed each of the gentlemen a clay 
pipe, and then held a burning paper close to the tobacco. 

“ Now’, the guns are ready, and the battle may commence,” 
said Blucher, puffing a cloud from his pipe. 

“You see, general,” said Amelia, turning to Scharnhorst 
with a significant glance, “madcap Blucher cannot refrain 
from talking all the time about battles and politics. Now, 
indulge him in his whim, general, and talk a little with him 
about these topics.” 

“ I believe it will amount to little,” growled Blucher. “ If 
Scharnhorst had brought good news he would not have kept 
me so long from knowing it. No; the news is always the 
same; I know it already! New bulletins favorable to Napo- 
leon — nothing else!” 

Scharnhorst smiled. “ Why, my friend, what is the reason 
of your sudden despondency? Have you, then, lost all your 
faith in the approach of better times? — you who used to be 
more courageous than any of us, you who hitherto cherished 
the firm belief in a change for the better, and were to us a 
shining beacon of honor, hope, and courage! What shall we 
do, and what is to become of us, when Blucher gets discour- 
aged and ceases to hope?” 

“Well,” said Blucher, “I am not yet discouraged ; I still 
hope for a change for the better, and know that it will surely 
come, for Scharnhorst still lives and paves the way for more 
prosperous times. Yes, certainly, there will be better times; 
Scharnhorst is secretly creating an army for us, and when 
the army has been organized, he will call me, and I shall put 
myself beside him at the head of the troops, and we shall then 
march against the ^French emperor with drums beating; we 


112 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


shall defeat him — drive him with his routed soldiers beyond 
the frontiers of Germany, so that he never again shall dare to 
return to the fatherland. Providence has spared me so long 
for this purpose; I believe that I am chosen to chastise the 
insolent Napoleon for all his crimes committed against Ger- 
many and Prussia. I am destined to overthrow him, deliver 
my country, and victoriously reestablish my dear king in all 
his former states. Napoleon must be hurled from his throne, 
and I must assist in bringing about his downfall; and before 
that has been accomplished I will and cannot die.* Yes, 
laugh at me as much as you please ; I am already accustomed 
to that when talking in this style ; but it will, nevertheless, 
prove true, and my prophecies will be fulfilled. You may 
deride me, but you cannot shake my firm belief in what I tell 
you.” 

“But I do not deride you,” said Scharnhorst. “I am glad 
of your reliance on Heaven, which, while all were discouraged 
and despairing, stood as a rock in the midst of the breakers. 
I always looked to you, Blucher; the thought of you always 
strengthened and encouraged me, and when I at times felt like 
giving way to despair, I said to myself, ‘For shame, Scharn- 
horst! take heart and hope, for Blucher still lives, and so long 
as he lives there is hope!’ ” 

“Henceforth,” exclaimed Blucher, with radiant eyes, giv- 
ing his hand to his friend, “ henceforth no one will deny that 
God has made us for each other. What you said about me I 
have repeated to myself every day about you. What was my 
consolation when Prussia, after the treaty of Tilsit, was wholly 
prostrated and ruined? ‘Scharnhorst still lives!’ What did I 
say to myself when the cowardly ministers, in the beginning 
of the present year, had concluded the abominable alliance 
with France? ‘Scharnhorst still lives!’ And when our poor 
regiments had to march to Russia as Bonaparte’s auxiliaries, I 
said to myself: ‘Scharnhorst is still there to create a new 
army, and God is there to give victory one day to this army, 
which I shall command.’ Oh, tell me, my friend, what are 
your plans? What have you been able to accomplish in re- 
gard to the reorganization of the army? And what about the 
new officers’ regulations which you are having printed?” 

“ They have already been printed, and I have brought a 
copy for you,” said Scharnhorst, dawing a printed book from 
his breast-pocket, and handing it to his friend. 

* Blucher ’s own words.— Vide his biography by Varnliagen von Ense, p. 123. 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


113 


Blucher gazed on it long with grave and musing eyes, read 
the title-page, and glanced over the contents. “ Scharnhorst, ” 
he then said, solemnly, “ this is a great and important work, 
and posterity only will appreciate its whole importance, and 
thank you deservedly for it. Our old military structure was 
utterly rotten, and the first storm, therefore, caused it to 
break down and fall to pieces. But Scharnhorst is an archi- 
tect who knew how to find among the ruins material for a new 
and solid structure, and this structure will one day cause the 
power of Bonaparte to disappear. This book, which entirely 
changes the duties and relations of the officers of all arms, and 
transforms our whole military system, is the splendid plan of 
the building which you are about to erect. By the introduc- 
tion of these regulations the antiquated system which brought 
upon Prussia the defeats of Jena and Auerstadt, is abolished; 
the great simplicity of the scheme, and its practical spirit, are 
the best antidotes against the prevalence of the old-fashioned 
notions which have proved so disastrous. You have per- 
formed a great work, Scharnhorst, and Prussia must thank 
you for it as long as she has an army.” 

“ I may say at least that I have striven for a grand object,” 
said Scharnhorst, “ and I have left nothing undone in order 
to attain it. Many changes had to be made, and many evils 
eradicated, when the king, after the calamitous days of Tilsit, 
placed me at the head of the commission which was to reorga- 
nize the whole Prussian army. We had to work night and 
day, for it was incumbent upon us to arrange a new system of 
conscription, organize the levies, draw up new articles of war, 
and complete the battalions, squadrons, and batteries. It was, 
besides, our task to give the army an honorable position, to 
constitute the soldier the sacred guardian of the noblest bless- 
ings of all nations — liberty and nationality; and to give him 
a country for which he was to fight. The soldier, therefore, 
had to be a citizen ; the army was no longer to consist of hire- 
lings, but of the sons of the country, and to these had to be 
intrusted the sacred and inevitable duty of learning the pro- 
fession of arms, and of devoting for some time iheir services 
to the fatherland. The citizens had to be transformed into 
soldiers, and the name of ‘soldier ’ had, as it was among the 
Romans, to become a title of honor. In order to bring this 
about, it was necessary, too, that the distinction of birth, to 
which the government, in commissioning officers and hitherto 
paid so much attention, should be entirely discarded. Every 


114 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


recruit had to know that by bravery, courage, industry, and 
intelligence, he might attain the highest positions, and 
that the private soldier might become a general. 

“ That is the very thing by which the aristocratic officers of 
the old regime became intensely exasperated against your new 
system,” said Blucher. “I know what you had to suffer and 
contend against, how many stumbling-blocks were cast in your 
way, and how they charged you with being an innovator, and 
even a republican, trying to transfer the liberty, equality, and 
fraternity of the French sans-culottes into the Prussian army, 
and to put generals’ epaulets into the knapsack of the low- 
born recruit. But all these arrows glanced off from your dear 
head, which was as hard as a golden anvil, and they were un- 
able to prevent Scharnhorst from becoming the armorer of 
German liberty!” 

“ But his head has received many a blow,” said Scharnhorst, 
smiling. “However, he who wages war must expect to be 
wounded, and it was a terrible war upon which I entered — 
one against prejudice and old established customs — against the 
rights and privileges of the aristocracy. God was with me 
and gave mo strength to complete my work ; He gave me, in 
Blucher, a friend who never refused me his advice, and, to 
whose sagacity and courage I am indebted for one-half of 
what I have achieved. Without your aid I would often have 
given way; but it strengthened me to think of you, and your 
applause was a reward for my labors. May we soon be enabled 
to carry into effect the new organization of the army!” 

“My friend,” said Blucher, shaking his head, “God has 
forgotten us, I fear, and averted His eyes from Prussia and 
the whole of Germany. Napoleon is an instrument in His 
hands, just as the knout is an instrument of justice in the 
hand of the Russian executioner. And it seems as though the 
nations deserved much punishment, for He still holds his in- 
strument firmly in His hands. But patience! — there will be 
a time when He will cast it aside, and when we shall arise 
from our prostration to take revenge upon our scourge.” 

“ Who knows whether this new era will not dawm at an 
earlier moment than we hope and look for,” said Scharn- 
horst, smiling. 

Blucher started, and cast a quick glance on his guest. 
“ Scharnhorst,” he said, hastily, “you have brought news, 
after all. I felt it as soon as I saw you, and it is no use to 
deny it any longer. You know, and want to tell me some- 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


115 


thing. Well, speak out! I am prepared for every thing! 
What is it? Has Napoleon gained another victory? Has he 
transported the Emperor Alexander to Siberia, and put the 
Russian crown on his head at the Kremlin? Have the Rus- 
sian people prostrated themselves before him, and, like other 
nations, recognized him as their sovereign and emperor? You 
see, I am prepared for every thing; for I insist upon it, how 
high soever he may build his throne, he must at last descend, 
and it will be I who will bring him down. Now, speak out! 
Has he again obtained a great victory?” 

“No, general,” said Scharnhorst, solemnly, “God has ob- 
tained a victory!” 

Blucher raised his head, and laid his clay pipe slowly on the 
table. “ What do you mean, general?” he asked. “ What do 
you mean by saying, ‘God has obtained a victory ’?” 

“ I mean to say that He has sent into the field troops whom 
even Napoleon is unable to defeat.” 

“ What troops do you refer to?” 

“ I refer to the cold, the snow, the ice, the howling storm 
blowing from Siberia, like the angry voice of Heaven, strik- 
ing down men and beasts alike.” 

“And these troops of God have defeated Napoleon?” 

“ They have, general !” 

Blucher uttered a cry, and, jumping up from his chair, 
drew himself up to his full height. “ The troops of God have 
defeated Napoleon !” he exclaimed, solemnly. “ I have always 
believed in divine justice — slow sometimes, but sure. Tell 
me every thing, my friend, tell me every thing,” he added, 
sinking back into the chair, quite overwhelmed by what he 
had heard. “ Commence at the beginning, for I feel that my 
joy renders this old head confused, and I must gradually ac- 
custom myself to it. Tell me the whole history of the Rus- 
sian campaign, for it is the preface I ought to read in order 
to be able to understand the book. And, then, in conclusion, 
tell me what the good Lord has done, and whether He will 
now employ His old Blucher. I feel as though an altar- taper 
had been suddenly lighted in my heart, and as though an 
organ were playing in my head. I must collect my thoughts. 
Speak, Scharnhorst, for you see this surprising news may 
make me insane.” He pressed his hands against his temples 
and drew a deep breath. 

His wife hastened to him, and with her soft hand caressed 
his face, and looked with anxious and tender glances into his 


110 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


wild eyes. “Be calm, Blucher,” she said. “Calm your 
great, heroic heart, else you shall and must not hear any 
thing further.— General Scharnhorst, I am sure you will not 
tell him anything as long as he is so agitated.” 

“I will be calm,” said Blucher. “You see that I am so 
already, and that I sit here as still as a lamb. Scharnhorst, 
tell me, therefore, every thing. I am all attention.” 

“ And while listening to him, take again your old friend, 
which has so often comforted you in your afflictions— put 
your pipe again into your mouth,” said Amelia, handing it to 
him. 

But Blucher refused it, almost indignantly. “No,” he 
said, “ one does not smoke at church, nor when the Lord 
speaks, and Scharnhorst is about to tell me that the Lord has 
spoken. While listening to such words, the heart must be 
devout, and the lips may bless or pray, but they must not 
hold a pipe. And now speak, Scharnhorst ; I am quite calm 
and prepared for good and bad news.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE OATH. 

“Speak,” said Blucher, once more. “I am prepared for 
every thing. Tell me about Bonaparte in Russia.” 

“ You know how victoriously and irresistibly Napoleon 
penetrated with the various columns of his army into the in- 
terior of Russia,” said Scharnhorst. “Nothing seemed to 
have been able to withstand him — nothing powerful enough 
to arrest his triumphant progress. The Russian generals, as 
if panic-strickeu, retreated farther and farther the deeper Na- 
poleon advanced into the heart of the empire. Neither Ku- 
tusolf, nor Wittgenstein, nor Barclay, dared risk the fate of 
Russia in a decisive battle; even the Emperor Alexander pre- 
ferred to leave the army and retire to Moscow to wait for the 
arrival of fresh reenforcements, and render new resources 
available. Napoleon, in the mean time, advanced still farther, 
constantly in search of the enemy, whom he was unable to find 
anywhere, and everywhere meeting another enemy whom he 
was nowhere able to avoid or conquer. This latter was the 
Russian climate. The scorching heat, the drenching rains, 
bred diseases which made more havoc in the ranks of the 


THE OATH. 


117 


French than the swords of living enemies would have been 
able to do. At the same time supplies were wanting, so that 
the immense host received but scanty and insufficient rations. 
The soldiers suffered the greatest privations, and the Russian 
people, incited by their czar and their priests to intense hatred 
and fanatical fury, escaped with their personal property and 
their provisions from the villages and the small towns rather 
than welcome the enemy and open to him their houses in com- 
pulsory hospitality. The French army, reduced by sickness, 
privations, and hunger, to nearly one-half of its original 
strength, nevertheless continued advancing; it forced an en- 
trance into Smolensk after a bloody struggle ; after taking a 
short rest" in the ruined, burning, and entirely deserted city, 
it marched upon Moscow. In front of this ancient capital of 
the czars it met at length on the 7th of September the living 
enemy it had so long sought. Bagration, Kutusoff, and Bar- 
clay, occupied with their army positions in front of it in order 
to prevent the approaching foe from entering holy Moscow. 
You know the particulars of the bloody battle on the Moskwa. 
The Russians and the French fought on this 7th of September 
for eleven long hours with the most obstinate exasperation, 
with truly fanatical fury ; whole ranks were mowed down like 
corn under the harvester’s scythe ; their generals and chief- 
tains themselves were struck down in the unparalleled strug- 
gle ; more than seventy thousand killed and wounded covered 
the battle-field, and yet there were no decisive results. The 
Russians had only been forced back, but not defeated and 
routed in such a manner as to stand in need of peace, in order 
to recover from the terrible consequences of the struggle. To 
be sure, Napoleon held the battle-field, and, on the 14th of 
September, made his entry into Moscow, but no messengers 
came to him from Alexander to sue for peace ; no submissive 
envoys to meet him, as he had been accustomed to see in other 
conquered cities, and surrender him the keys ; the streets were 
deserted, and no excited crowd appeared either there or at the 
windows of the houses to witness his entry. The city, whence 
the inhabitants and authorities had fled, was a vast gaping 
grave.” 

“But the grave soon gave signs of animation,” exclaimed 
Blucher, excitedly; “the desert was transformed into a sea of 
fire, and the burning city gave a horrible welcome to the 
French. The governor of Moscow, Count Rostopchin, in- 
tended to greet the entering conqueror with an illumination, 


118 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and, as he had no torches handy, he set fire to the houses. 
He removed the stores and supplies, compelled the inhabitants 
to leave, had the fire-engines concealed, ordered inflammable 
oils and rosin to be placed everywhere in order to intensify 
the fury of the conflagration, and then released the convicts 
that they might set fire to the city. The first house kindled 
was Rostopchin’s own magnificent palace, close to the gates of 
Moscow. Well, it is true, Rostopchin acted like a barbarian ; 
but still the man’s character seems grand, and his ferocity 
that of the lion shaking his mane, and rushing with a roar 
upon his adversary. To be sure, it was no great military ex- 
ploit to burn down a large city, but still it was a splendid 
stratagem, and, in a struggle with a hateful and infamous 
enemy, all ways and means are permitted and justifiable. I 
do not merely excuse Rostopchin, but I admire his tremendous 
energy, and believe, if I were a Russian, I would likewise have 
done something of the sort. His act compelled the enemy 
soon to leave, as he could not establish his winter-quarters 
amid smoking ruins, and to retreat instead of advancing, and 
obliged the Emperor Alexander to cease his vacillating course 
— inasmuch as, after the conflagration, further attempts at 
bringing about a compromise and reconciliation between the 
belligerents were entirely out of the question. ” 

“No, general, Rostopchin did not bring this about,” ex- 
claimed Scharnhorst, “ but it was our great friend Stein who 
did it. God Himself sent Minister von Stein to Russia, that 
he might stand as an immovable rock by the side of the mild 
and fickle Alexander, and that his fiery soul might strengthen 
the fluctuating resolutions of the czar, and inspire him with 
true faith in, and reliance on, the great cause of the freedom 
of the European nations, which was now to be decided upon 
the snowy fields of Russia. We owe it to Stein alone that the 
peace party at the Russian headquarters did not gain the em- 
peror over to their side; we owe it to Stein that Alexander 
determined to pursue a manly, energetic course; that he re- 
fused to allow the diplomatists to interfere, but left the 
decision to the sword alone, and constantly and proudly re- 
jected all the offers of peace which Napoleon now began to 
make to him. And Stein found a new ally in the climate 
uniting with him in his inexorable hostility to the French. 
Napoleon felt that he ought not to await the approach of win- 
ter at Moscow, and on the 18th of October he left the inhos- 
pitable city with the remnants of his army. But winter 


THE OATH. 


119 


dogged his steps; winter attached itself as a heavy burden to 
the feet of his soldiers ; it laid itself like lead on their para- 
lyzed brain, and caused the horses, guns, and caissons, to stick 
fast in the snow and ice. Winter dissolved the French army. 
Men and beasts perished by cold ; discipline and subordination 
were entirely disregarded ; every one thought only of preserv- 
ing his own life, of appeasing his hunger, and relieving his 
distress. Piles of corpses and dead horses marked the route 
of this terrible retreat of the French; and when, on the 9th 
of November, they entered Smolensk, the whole grand army 
consisted only of forty thousand armed men, and crowds of 
stragglers destitute of arms and without discipline.” 

“ And still this cruel tyrant and heartless braggart, the 
great Napoleon, dared to boast of his victories, and the splen- 
did condition of his army,” exclaimed Blucher, angrily. 
“ And he sent constantly new bulletins of pretended victories 
into the world, and the stupid Germans believed them to be 
true, the supposed successes causing them to tremble. I have 
read these lying bulletins, and the perusal made me ill. They 
dwelt on nothing but the victories, the glorious conduct, and 
the fine condition of the grand army.” 

“But now you shall read a new one, friend Blucher,” ex- 
claimed Scharnhorst; “here is the tw’enty-ninth bulletin, and 
I will communicate to you also the latest news from the grand 
army and the great Napoleon, which couriers from Berlin and 
Dresden brought me last night, and which induced me to set 
out so early to-day in order to reach my Blucher, and tell him 
of a new era. Here is the twenty-ninth bulletin, and in it 
Napoleon dares no longer boast of victories; he almost dares 
tell the truth.” 

“Let me read it!” exclaimed Blucher, impatiently seizing 
the printed sheet which Scharnhorst handed to him. Gasp- 
ing with inward emotion, he began to read it, but his hands 
soon trembled, and the letters swam before his eyes. 

“ I cannot read it through,” said Blucher, sighing. “ There 
is a storm raging in my heart, and it blows out the light of 
my eyes. Bead the remainder to me, my friend. I have read 
it to the engagement on the Beresina, where Napoleon says 
that General Victor gained another victory on the 28th of 
November.” 

“ But this victory consisted only in the fact that General 
Victor, with his twelve thousand men, prevented the Russians 
from reaching the banks of the Beresina, so that two bridges 


120 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


could be built across it, and that the ragged wretches compos- 
ing the grand army could reach the opposite side of the river. 
That passage of the Beresina was a terrible moment, which 
will never be forgotten by history — a tragedy full of horrors, 
wretchedness, and despair. Stein’s agents have sent me Rus- 
sian reports of this event, which contain the most heart-rend- 
ing and revolting details. Books will be written to depict 
the dreadful scenes of that day ; but neither historians, nor 
painters, nor poets, will find words or colors to portray those 
unparalleled horrors.” 

“And does he describe those scenes in his bulletin?” asked 
Blucher. “ Read me its conclusion. Does he allude to those 
horrors of the Beresina?” 

“ No, general ; he speaks only of the victory and the pas- 
sage across the river, and then continues : ‘ On the following 
day, the 29th of November, we remained on the battle-field. 
We had to choose between two routes: the road of Minsk, and 
that of Wilna. The road of Minsk passes through the middle 
of a forest and un cultivated morasses ; that of Wilna, on the 
contrary, passes through a very fine part of the country. The 
army, destitute of cavalry, but poorly provided with ammuni- 
tion, and terribly exhausted by the fatigues of a fifty days’ 
march, took with it its sick and wounded, and was anxious to 
reach its magazines. ’ ” 

“ That is to say,” exclaimed Blucher, “ they died of hunger, 
and, as he says that they were terribly exhausted by a fifty 
days’ march, dropped like flies. Oh, it is true, the Emperor 
Napoleon is very laconic in his account of that retreat, but he 
who knows how to penetrate the meaning of his few lines 
cannot fail to receive a deep impression of the wretchedness 
that unfortunate army had to undergo. Read on, dear 
Scharnhorst.” 

Scharnhorst continued: “‘If it must be admitted that it 
is necessary for the army to reestablish its discipline, to re- 
cover from its long fatigues, to remount its cavalry, artillery, 
and materiel, it is only the natural result of the events which 
we have just described. Repose is now, above all, indispensa- 
ble to the army. The trains and horses are already arriving; 
the artillery has repaired its losses, but the generals, officers, 
and soldiers, have suffered intensely by the fatigues and pri- 
vations of the march. Owing to the loss of their horses, 
many have lost their baggage ; others have been deprived of 
it by Cossacks lying in ambush. They have captured a great 


THE OATH. 


121 


many individuals, such as engineers, geographers, and 
wounded officers, who marched without the necessary precau- 
tions, and exposed themselves to the danger of being taken 
prisoners rather than quietly march in the midst of the 
convoys . 5 ” 

“ And the Cossacks have spared him ! ” exclaimed Blucher, 
impatiently. “ They did not take him prisoner ! What is he 
doing, then, that the Cossacks cannot catch him? Tell me, 
Scharnhorst — the bulletin, then, does not, like its predeces- 
sors, dwell on the heroic exploits of the great emperor? He 
does not praise himself as he formerly used to do?” 

“ Oh, he does not fail to do so. Listen to the conclusion : 
‘During all these operations the emperor marched constantly 
in the midst of his guard, the marshal Duke d’Istria com- 
manding the cavalry, and the Duke de Dantzic the infantry. 
His majesty was content with the excellent spirit manifested 
by the guard, always ready to march to points where the situ- 
ation was such that its mere presence sufficed to check the 
enemy. Our cavalry lost so heavily, that it was difficult to 
collect officers enough, who were still possessed of horses, to 
form four companies, each of one hundred and fifty men. In 
these companies, generals performed the services of captains, 
and colonels those of non-commissioned officers. The “ Sacred 
Legion,” commanded by the King of Naples and General 
Grouchy, never lost sight of the emperor during all these 
operations. The health of his majesty never was better.’ ” * 

“And he dares to proclaim that!” exclaimed Blucher, in- 
dignantly. “ His army is dying of hunger and cold, and he 
proclaims to the world, as if in mockery, that his health never 
was better ! It is his fault that hundreds of thousands are 
perishing in the most heart-rending manner, and he boasts of 
his extraordinary good health ! He must have a stone in his 
breast instead of a heart; otherwise, a general whose army is 
perishing under his eyes cannot be in extraordinary good 
health. He will be punished for it, and will not always feel 
so well.” 

“He has already been punished, my friend,” said Scharn- 
horst, solemnly. “ It has pleased God to chastise the arrogant 
tyrant and to bow his proud head to the dust.” 

Blucher jumped up, aud a deep pallor overspread his cheeks. 
“ He has been punished?” he asked, breathlessly. “ Napoleon 
in the dust! What is it? Speak quickly, Scharnhorst; 

* Fain, “ Manuscrit de 1812. ” 


9 


122 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


speak, if you do not want me to die! What has hap- 
pened?" 

“He has left his army, and secretly fled from Russia!" 

Blucher uttered a cry, and, without a word, rushed toward 
the door. Scharnhorst and Amelia hastened after him and 
kept him back. 

“ What do you wish to do?" asked Scharnhorst. 

“ I wish to pursue him!" exclaimed Blucher, vainly trying 
to disengage himself from the hands of his wife and the gen- 
eral. “ Let me go — do not detain me! I must pursue him — 
I must take him prisoner! If he has fled from his army, he 
must return to France, and if he wants to return to France, 
he must pass through Germany. Let me go! He must not 
be permitted to escape from Germany!" 

“ But he has already escaped," said Scharnhorst, smiling. 

“What! Passed through Germany?" asked Blucher. 
“ And no one has tried to arrest him?" 

“No one knew that he was there. He left his army on the 
6th of December; attended only by Caulaincourt and his 
Mameluke Roustan, recognized by no one, expected by no 
one, he sped in fabulous haste in an unpretending sleigh 
through the whole of Poland and Prussia. Only after he set 
out was it known at the places where he stopped that he had 
been there. He travelled as swiftly as the storm. On the 
6th of December he was at Wilna, on the 10th of December at 
Warsaw, and in the night of the 14th of December suddenly 
a plain sleigh stopped in front of the residence of M. Serra, 
French ambassador at Dresden : two footmen were seated on 
the box, and in the sleigh itself there were two gentlemen, 
wrapped in furred robes, and so much benumbed by the cold 
that they had to be lifted out. These two gentlemen were 
the Emperor Napoleon and Caulaincourt. Napoleon had an 
interview with the King of Saxony the same night, and, con- 
tinuing his journey, reached Erfurt on the 15th, and — " 

“And to-day is already the 17th of December," said 
Blucher, sighing; “he will, therefore, be beyond the Rhine. 
And I must allow him to escape! I am unable to detain him ! 
Oh, that the little satisfaction had been granted me of captur- 
ing Napoleon! Well, it has been decreed that this should not 
be; but one thing at least is settled. Napoleon has been de- 
serted by his former good luck; Dame Fortune, who always 
was seated in his triumphal car, has alighted from it, and now 
we may hope to see her soon restored to her old place on the top 


THE OATH. 




of the Brandenburg gate at Berlin. Hurrah, my friend! we 
are going to rise ; I feel it in my bones, and the time has come 
when old Blucher will again be permitted to be a man, and 
will no longer be required to draw his nightcap over his ears.” 

“ Yes, the time has come when Prussia needs her valiant 
Blucher,” said Scharnhorst, tenderly laying his arm on 
Blucher’s. “ Now raise your head, general — now prepare for 
action, for Blucher must henceforth be ready at a moment’s 
notice to obey the call of Prussia, and place himself at the 
head of her brave sons, who are so eager for the fray.” 

“Yes, yes, we shall have war now,” exclaimed Blucher. 
“ Soon the drums will roll, and the cannon boom — soon 
Blucher will no longer be a childish and decrepit old man 
whom wiseacres think they can mock and laugh at — soon 
Blucher will once more be a man who, sword in hand, will 
shout to his troops, ‘Forward! — charge the enemy!’ Great 
Heaven, Scharnhorst, and I have not even dressed becomingly 
— I still wear a miserable civilian’s coat ! Suppose war should 
break out to-day, and they should come and call me to the 
army? Why, Blucher would have to hang his head in shame, 
and acknowledge that he was not ready! — John! John! — my 
uniform! Come to my bedroom, John! I want to dress! — 
to put on my uniform !” 

Fifteen minutes afterward Blucher returned to the sitting- 
room, where his wife was gayly chatting w 7 ith Scharnhorst. 
He was not now the sick, suffering old man whom we saw this 
morning sitting on the easy-chair at the window, but he was 
once more a fiery soldier and a hero. His head was proudly 
erect, his eyes were flashing, a proud smile was playing round 
his lips; his broad-shouldered form was clothed in the uni- 
form of a Prussian general; orders were glittering on his 
breast, and the long rattling sword hung at his left side. 

Blucher approached his wife and General Scharnhorst with 
dignified steps, and, giving his hands to both, said in a grave 
and solemn voice, “ The time for delay, impatience, and folly, 
is past. With this uniform I have become a new man. I am 
no longer an impatient septuagenarian, cursing and killing 
flies on the wall because he has no one else on whom to vent 
his wrath ; but I am a soldier standing composedly at his post, 
and waiting for the hour when he will be able to destroy his 
enemy. Come, my friends, — come with me !” 

He drew the two with him, and walked so rapidly through 
the rooms that they were scarcely able to accompany him. 


124 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


They entered the large reception-room, opened only on festive 
occasions. It contained nothing but some tinselled furniture, 
a few tables with marble tops, and on the pillars between the 
windows large Venetian mirrors. Otherwise the walls were 
bare, except over the sofa, where hung, in a finely-carved and 
gilded frame, a painting, which however was covered with a 
large veil of black crape. 

Blucher conducted the two to this painting ; for a moment 
he stood still and gazed on it gravely and musingly, and, rais- 
ing his right hand with a quick jerk, he tore down the 
mourning-veil. 

“Queen Louisa!” exclaimed Scharnhorst, admiring the tall 
and beautiful lady smiling on him. “Yes,” said Blucher, 
solemnly, “Queen Louisa! The guardian angel of Prussia, 
whose heart Napoleon broke! This pride and joy of all our 
women had to depart without hoping even in the possibility 
that the calamities which ruined her might come to an end. 
On the day she died I covered her portrait with this veil, and 
swore not to look again at her adored countenance until able 
to draw my sword, and, with Prussia’s soldiers, avenge her 
untimely death. The time has come! Louisa, rise again 
from your grave, open once more your beautiful eyes, for day- 
light is at hand, and our night is ended. Now, my beautiful 
queen, listen to the oath of your most faithful servant!” He 
drew his sword, and, raising it up to the painting, exclaimed: 

“ Here is my sword ! When I sheathed it last, I wept, for I 
was to be an invalid, and should no longer wield it; I was to 
sit here in idleness, and silently witness the sufferings of my 
fatherland. But now I shall soon be called into service, and 
I swear to you, Queen Louisa, that I will not sheathe this 
sword before I have avenged your death, before Germany and 
Prussia are free again, and Napoleon has received his punish- 
ment. I swear it to you, as sure as I am old Blucher, and 
have seen the tears which Prussia’s disgrace has often wrung 
from your eyes. May God help me ! may He in His mercy 
spare me until I have fulfilled my oath! Amen!” 

“Amen |” repeated Scharnhorst and Amelia, looking up to 
the portrait. 

“Amen!” said Blucher again. “And now, Amelia,” he 
added, quickly, “ come and give me a kiss, and, by this kiss, 
consecrate your warrior, that he may deliver Germany and 
overthrow Napoleon. For Napoleon must now be hurled from 
the throne!” 


CHAIN" CELLOR VOH HARDEHBERG. 


CHAPTER xm. 

THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 

It was on the 4th of January, 1813. The brilliant official 
festivities with which the beginning of a new year had been 
celebrated, were at an end, and-, the ceremonious dinner- 
parties being over, one was again at liberty to indulge in the 
enjoyment of familiar suppers, where more attention was 
paid to the flavor of choice wines and delicacies than to official 
toasts and political speeches. Marshal Augereau gave at Ber- 
lin on this day one of those pleasant little entertainments to 
his [favored friends, to indemnify them, as it were, for the 
great gala dinner of a hundred covers, given by him on the 
1st of January, as official representative of the Emperor 
Napoleon. 

To-day the supper was served in the small, cozy saloon, and 
and it was but & petit comite that assembled round the table 
in the middle of the room. This comite consisted only of five 
gentlemen, with pleasant, smiling faces, in gorgeous, pro- 
fusely-embroidered uniforms, on the left sides of which many 
glittering orders indicated the high rank of the small com- 
pany. There was, in the first place, Marshal Augereau, gov- 
ernor of Berlin, once so furious a republican that he threatened 
with death all the members of his division who would address 
any one with “ monsieur,” or “ madame ” — now the most ar- 
dent imperialist, and an admirer of the Emperor Napoleon. 
The gentleman by his side, with the short, corpulent figure 
and aristocratic countenance, from which a smile never dis- 
appeared, was the chancellor of state and prime minister of 
King Frederick William III., Baron von Hardenherg. He 
was just engaged in an eager conversation with his neighbor, 
Count Narbonne, the faithless renegade and former adherent 
of the Bourbons, who had but lately deserted to Napoleon’s 
camp, and allowed himself to be used by the emperor on 


126 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


various diplomatic missions. Next to him sat Prince Hatz- 
feld, the man on whom, in 1807, Napoleon’s anger had fallen, 
and who would have been shot as a “ traitor ” if the impas- 
sioned intercession of his wife had not succeeded in softening 
the emperor, and thus saving her husband’s life. Near him, 
and closing the circle, sat Count St. Marsan, Napoleon’s am- 
bassador at the court of Prussia. 

These five gentlemen had already been at the table for sev- 
eral hours, and were now in that comfortable and agreeable 
mood which epicures feel when they have found the numerous 
courses palatable and piquant, the Hock sufficiently cold, the 
Burgundy sufficiently warm, the oysters fresh, and the truffles 
well-flavored. They had got as far as the roast ; the pheas- 
ants, with their delicate sauce, filled the room with an appe- 
tizing odor, and the corks of the champagne-bottles gave loud 
reports, as if by way of salute fired in honor of the trium- 
phant entry of Pleasure. 

Marshal Augereau raised his glass. “ I drink this in honor 
of our emperor!” he exclaimed, in an enthusiastic tone. The 
gentlemen touched each other’s glasses, and the three repre- 
sentatives of France then emptied theirs at one draught. 
Prince Hatzfeld followed their example, but Baron von Har- 
denberg only touched the brim of his glass with his lips, and 
put it down again. 

“Your excellency does not drink?” asked Augereau. 
“Then you are not in earnest?” 

“ Yes, marshal, I am in earnest,” said Hardenberg, smiling, 
“ but you used a word which prevented me from emptying my 
glass. You said, ‘In honor of our emperor! Now, I am the 
devoted and, I may well say, faithful servant of my master, 
King Frederick William, and therefore I cannot call the great 
Napoleon my emperor.” 

“Oh, I used a wrong expression,” exclaimed Augereau, 
hastily. “ Let us fill our glasses anew, and drink this time 
‘the health of the great emperor Napoleon!’” He touched 
glasses with the chancellor of state, and then fixed his keen 
eyes upon the minister. 

Baron von Hardenberg raised the glass to his lips, but then 
withdrew it again, and, bowing smilingly to Marshal Auge- 
reau, said: “Permit me, marshal, to add something to your 
toast. Let us drink ‘the health of the great emperor, and a 
long and prosperous alliance with Prussia!’ ” 

“‘And a long and prosperous alliance with Prussia,’” re- 


THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


127 


peated the four gentlemen, emptying their glasses, and 
resuming their chairs. 

“ We have just drunk to the success of our divulged secret,” 
said Prince Hatzfeld, smiling. “ For I suppose, your excel- 
lency,” turning to Baron von Hardenberg,“ this new happy alli- 
ance between Prussia and France is now not much of a secret?” 

“ I hope it will soon be no secret at all,” said Hardenberg. 
“ Prussia has received the proposition of France with heart- 
felt joy, and will hail the marriage of her crown prince Fred- 
erick William as the happiest guaranty of an indissoluble 
union. Only the crown prince is too young as yet to marry, 
and at the present time, at least, allusions to the happiness of 
his future should be avoided. His thoughts should belong 
only to God and religion, for you know, gentlemen, that the 
crown prince will be solemnly confirmed in the course of a few 
days. Only after he has pledged his soul to God will it be 
time for him to pledge his heart to love; only then communi- 
cations will be made to him as to the brilliant future that is 
opening for him, and, no doubt, he will, like the king, be 
ready to bind even more firmly the ties uniting Prussia with 
France. He will be proud to receive for a consort a princess of 
the house of Napoleon, for such a marriage will render him a 
relative of the greatest prince of his century!” 

“ Of a prince whom Heaven loves above all others, as it lav- 
ishes upon him greater prosperity than upon others,” ex- 
claimed Prince Hatzfeld, emphatically. “ God’s love is visibly 
with him, and protects His favorite. Who but he would have 
been able to overcome the terrible dangers of the Russian 
campaign, and, with an eagle’s flight, return to France from 
the snowy deserts of Russia, without losing a single plume of 
his wings?” 

“It is true,” responded Augereau, thoughtfully. “For- 
tune, or, if you prefer, Providence, is with the emperor; it 
protects him in all dangers, and allows him to issue victori- 
ously from all storms. In Russia he was in danger of ruining 
his glory and his army, but the battle of Borodino, and still 
more that on the banks of the Beresina, saved his laurels. 
The emperor travelled deserted roads, without an escort or 
protection, through Poland and Germany, in order to return 
to France. If he had been recognized, perhaps it might have 
entered the heads of some enthusiasts to attack and capture 
him on his solitary journey; but the eyes of his enemies 
seemed to have been blinded. The emperor was not recog- 


128 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


nizecl, and appeared suddenly in Paris, where the greatest ex- 
citement, consternation, and confusion, were prevailing at 
that moment. For Paris had just then been profoundly 
moved by the deplorable conspiracy of General Mallet, and 
the Parisians were asking each other in dismay whether Gen- 
eral Mallet might not have been right after all in announcing 
that Napoleon was dead, and whether his death was not kept 
a secret merely from motives of policy. Suddenly Napoleon 
appeared in the streets of Paris. All rushed out to behold 
the emperor, or touch his horse, body, hands, or feet, to look 
into his eyes, to hear his voice, and satisfy themselves that it 
was really Napoleon — not an apparition. Their cheers rang, 
and, in their happiness at seeing him again in their midst, 
they pardoned him for having left their sons and brothers, 
fathers and husbands, as frozen corpses on the plains of Rus- 
sia. Never before had Napoleon enjoyed a greater triumph 
as on the day of his return from the Russian campaign. For- 
tune is the goddess chained to the emperor’s triumphal car, 
and the nations therefore would act very foolishly if they 
dared rise against him.” 

“ Happily, they have given up all such schemes,” said Har- 
denberg, smiling, and quietly cutting the pheasant’s wing on 
his silver plate. “They are asking and longing only for 
peace in order to dress their wounds, cultivate their fields, 
and peaceably reap the harvest.” 

“ And the word of the Emperor Napoleon is a pledge to 
nations that they shall be enabled to do so,” exclaimed St. 
Marsan. “ He wants peace, and is ready to make every sacri- 
fice to conclude and maintain it.” 

The German princes, of course, will joyously offer him 
their hands for that purpose,” said Hardenberg, bowing his 
head. “ In truth, I could not say at what point of Germany 
war could break out at this juncture. The princes of the 
German Confederation of the Rhine have long since acknowl- 
edged the Emperor of the French as their master, and them- 
selves as his obedient vassals. Powerful Austria has allied 
herself with France by the ties of a marriage, and the hands 
of Maria Louisa and Napoleon are stretched out in blessing 
over the two countries. Poor Prussia has not only proved her 
fidelity as an ally of France, but is now, forgetful of all her 
former humiliations, ready to consent to a marriage of her 
future king with a Napoleonic princess. Whence, then, 
could come a cause for a new war between France and Ger- 


THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


129 


many? We shall have peace, doubtless — a long and durable 
peace!” 

“And that will be very fortunate,” said Count Narbonne, 
“ for then it will no longer be necessary for us to allow miser- 
able politics to poison our suppers. ‘Politics,’ said my great 
royal patron, King Louis XVI., the worthy uncle of the Em- 
peror Napoleon, ‘politics know nothing of the culinary art; 
they spoil all dishes, and care, therefore, ought to be taken 
not to allow them to enter the kitchen or the dining-room. 
One must not admit them even directly after eating, for they 
interfere with digestion; only during the morning hours 
should audiences be given to them, for then they may serve 
as Spanish pepper, imparting a flavor to one’s breakfast.’ 
That was a very sagacious remark ; I feel it at this moment 
when you so cruelly sprinkle politics over this splendid 
pheasant.” 

“You are right,” exclaimed llardenberg, laughing, “I 
therefore beg your excellency’s pardon ; for Spanish pepper, 
which is very palatable in Cumberland sauce, and a few other 
dishes, is surely entirely out of place when mixed with French 
truffles.” 

“Unhappy man,” exclaimed Narbonne, with ludicrous 
pathos, “ you are again talking politics, and moreover of the 
worst sort!” 

“How so?” asked Count St. Marsan. “What displeases 
you in the remarks of Minister von Hardenberg?” 

“ Well, did you not notice that his excellency alluded to our 
unsuccessful efforts in Spain? Spanish pepper, he said, is 
surely entirely out of place when mixed with French truffles, 
but very palatable in English sauces. That is to say, Spain 
and England are good allies, and Spain and France will never 
be reconciled. And it is true, it is a mortal war which Spain 
is waging against us, and unfortunately one which offers us 
but few chances of success. The Spaniards contest every inch 
of ground with the most dogged obstinacy, and they have 
found very valuable auxiliaries in Lord Wellington and his 
English troops. They — ” 

“ Ah, my dear count,” exclaimed Marshal Augereau, smiling, 
“now it is you who talk politics, and it behooves you no 
longer to accuse us.” 

“You are right, and I beg your pardon,” said Narbonne; 
“but you see how true the old proverb proves: ‘Bad examples 
spoil good manners. ’ Let us talk no longer about pepper, but 


130 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


truffles. Just compare this truffle from Perigord with the 
Italian truffle at the entremets , and you will have to admit 
that our Perigord truffle is in every respect superior to the 
latter. It is more savory and piquant. There can be no 
doubt of it that Perigord furnishes the most palatable fruit 
to the world.” 

“ What fruit do you allude to?” asked Hardenberg, smiling. 
“ Do you refer to the Perigord truffle, or to the Abbot of 
Perigord, the great Talleyrand?” 

“ I see you are lost beyond redemption,” said Narbonne, 
sighing, while the other gentlemen burst into laughter. 
“ Even in the face of a truffle you still dare to amuse yourself 
with political puns, and confound intentionally an abbot with 
a truffle! Oh, what a blasphemy against the finest of all 
fruits — I allude, of course, to the truffle — oh, it is treason 
committed — ” 

Just then the door of the saloon was hastily opened, and 
the first secretary of the French embassy entered the room. 

“ What, sir!” shouted Count St. Marsan to him, “ you come 
to disturb me here? Some important event, then, has taken 
place?” 

The secretary approached him hurriedly. “ Yes, your ex- 
cellency,” he said, “highly important and urgent dispatches 
have arrived. They come from the army, and an aide-de- 
camp of Marshal Macdonald is their bearer. He has travelled 
night and day to reach your excellency at an earlier moment 
than the courier whom General von York no doubt has sent to 
the King of Prussia. Here are the dispatches which the aide- 
de-camp of the marshal has brought for you, and which he 
says ought immediately to be read by your excellency.” He 
handed the count a large sealed letter, which the latter eagerly 
accepted and at once opened. 

A profound silence now reigned in the small saloon. The 
faces of the boon companions at the table had grown grave, 
and all fixed their eyes with an anxious and searching expres- 
sion upon the countenance of Count St. Marsan. He read 
the dispatch at first with a calm and indifferent air, but sud- 
denly his features assumed an expression of astonishment — 
nay, of anger, and a gloomy cloud covered his brow. 

“ All right,” he then said, turning to the secretary. “ Re- 
turn to the legation. I will follow you in a few minutes.” 
The secretary bowed and withdrew. The five gentlemen were 
again alone. 


THE INTERRUPTED SUPPER. 


131 


“Well,” asked Marshal Augereau, “were the dispatches 
really important?” 

Count St. Marsan made no immediate reply. He looked 
slowly around the circle of his companions, and fixed his eyes 
with a piercing expression on the countenance of Chancellor 
von Hardenberg. “Yes,” he said, “they contain highly im- 
portant news, and 1 wonder if his excellency the chancellor of 
state has not yet received them, for the dispatches concern 
above all the Prussian army.” 

“ But I pledge your excellency my word of honor that I do 
not know what you refer to,” said Hardenberg, gravely. “ I 
have received no courier and no startling news from the Prus- 
sian army.” 

“Well, then,” said St. Marsan, bowing, “permit me to 
communicate it to you. General York, commander of the 
Prussian troops belonging to the forces of Marshal Macdonald, 
has refused to obey the marshal’s orders. He has gone even 
further than that, concluding a treaty with Russia, with the 
enemy of France and Prussia; and signed at Tauroggen, with 
the Russian General von Diebitsch, a convention by virtue of 
which he severs his connection with the French army, and, 
w T ith the consent of Russia, declares that the Prussian corps 
henceforth will be neutral.” 

“But this impossible,” exclaimed Hardenberg, “he would 
not dare any thing of the kind; he would not violate in so 
flagrant a manner the orders given him by his king!” 

“But he did so,” said Augereau, “and if your excellency 
should have any doubts as to the truth of what Count St. 
Marsan said, here is the autograph letter in which General 
von York informs Marshal Macdonald of his defection ; and, 
besides, another letter in which the commander of the cavalry, 
General von Massenbach, notifies Marshal Macdonald that he 
has acceded to York’s convention, and henceforth will no 
longer obey the marshal’s orders. Conformably to this con- 
vention, the Prussian troops have already left the positions 
assigned them by Marshal Macdonald, and returned to Prus- 
sian territory.” 

“ It is true; there can be no doubt of it,” said Hardenberg, 
with a deep sigh, and handing back to the marshal the papers 
which he had rapidly glanced over. He then rose from his 
chair and said: “This is so unparalleled and unexpected an 
event, that I am at the present moment almost unable to col- 
lect my thoughts. You will pardon me, therefore, for leav- 


132 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ing you; above all, I have to inform his majesty, the king, of 
this important intelligence, and receive his orders in regard 
to it. But then I beg leave to see Count St. Marsan at his 
residence, to confer with him as to the measures to be taken 
concerning this terrible event.” 

“ I will await you at whatever hour of the night it may be,” 
said Count St. Marsan; “I am now about to return to my 
residence.” 

“And I to the king!” exclaimed Hardenberg, taking leave. 


CHAPTER XI Y . 

THE DEFECTION OF GENERAL YORK. 

King Frederick William had just returned to his cabi- 
net after attending to the last business, which he never 
neglected to perform on any day of the year; that is to say, 
he had repaired to the bedrooms of his children, and bidden 
the little sleepers “good-night” by gently kissing them. In 
former times he did this by the side of his wife, with a happy 
heart and a smiling face; it had been, as it were, the last seal 
both pressed, at the close of every day of their common happi- 
ness, upon the foreheads of their sleeping children. But since 
Louisa had left him, to bid this “good-night ” had become, as 
it were, a sacred pilgrimage to his most precious recollections. 
AVhen he passed through the silent corridors at night, and 
entered the rooms of his sons and daughters, he thought of 
her who had left him three years before, but whom he believed 
he saw, with her sweet smile and loving eyes. He took pains 
to remind such of his children as he found awake of their 
dear departed parent, whispering to them, “Remember your 
noble mother, whose eyes behold you.” And on the lips of 
those asleep he never failed to press two kisses — one for him- 
self and the other for Louisa. 

The king had just returned to his cabinet, and, like a 
dying glimmer of twilight, a faint smile was illuminating his 
countenance, which, since the queen’s death, had grown grave 
and sad. He seated himself on the sofa where she had so 
often sat by his side, and cast a mournful glance upon the 
vacant place beside him. “Alone! Always alone!” he said 
in a low voice. “ Nothing around me but intrigues, quarrels, 


THE DEFECTION OF GENERAL YORK. 


133 


and malice! No one who loves me! Alone!” With a quick 
motion he turned his head toward the side of the wall where 
hung over his desk the portrait of Queen Louisa, in her white 
dress, and a rose on her bosom. “Where are you, then, 
Louisa!” he exclaimed; “why did you leave me, though you 
had sworn to bear joy and grief with me? You are not here 
to share them, and — ” Suddenly the king paused and turned 
his eyes toward the door. It seemed to him as though he 
heard hasty footsteps, and some one softly rapping at his door. 
Who, at this unusual hour, could ask for admittance? Who 
could dare now interrupt his solitude, when it was well under- 
stood he desired to be left alone? 

The rapping was repeated, louder than before, and a timid, 
imploring voice asked, “ Has his majesty returned to his 
cabinet?” 

“It is Timm, my chamberlain,” said the king. “What 
can he want of me?” * 

Ordering him in a loud tone to walk in, the door was im- 
mediately opened, and the chamberlain appeared on the 
threshold. “Pardon me, sire,” he said, but his excellency 
Chancellor von Hardenberg is in the anteroom, and urgently 
requests your majesty to grant him an immediate audience.” 

“Hardenberg!” exclaimed the king, anxiously. “What 
has happened; what — ” He interrupted himself: “I will 
see the chancellor. Admit him at once.” 

The chamberlain withdrew. The king arose and advanced 
several steps toward the door; then, as if ashamed of his own 
impatience, he stopped, while his face expressed the agitation 
of his mind. 

Hardenberg entered, and, closing the door rapidly, ap- 
proached the king. “ Your majesty,” he said, “ I beg pardon 
for daring to disturb you at so late an hour; but the extra- 
ordinary importance of the news I bring to you will be my 
excuse. I was at the supper-table of Marshal Augereau, in 
company with the French ambassador, Count St. Marsan, 
when important dispatches, just arrived from the army, were 
delivered to the ambassador.” 

“ A battle has been fought, has it not? Has my corps been 
routed?” asked the king, breathlessly. 

“No, your majesty, there has been no battle. A much 
more extraordinary event has taken place, General von York 
has concluded a convention with the Russian General Hie- 
bitsch, and signed a treaty by which the troops commanded 


134 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


by York separate from the Frenc^, and engage to remain 
neutral for two months.” 

“ That is not true!” exclaimed the king. “ A mere rumor! 
— an impossibility!” 

“ Your majesty, it is but too true. I myself have read the 
autograph letters in which Generals York and Massenbach 
inform Marshal Macdonald of their resolution not to obey his 
orders longer.” 

The king pressed his hands against his temple, and ex- 
claimed, in a tremulous voice: “ Oh, this is enough to , throw 
one into a state of apoplexy ! * It is unheard of, contrary to 
military law, contrary to all international obligations! It is 
open rebellion, revolutionary resistance to his king and com- 
mander-in-chief ! A general who dares commit so terrible a 
crime must be tried by court-martial, and sentence of death 
passed upon him. I cannot pardon him!” 

“Your maje^y,” said Hardenberg, in dismay, “it is possi- 
ble that General York may have committed a crime against 
discipline, but, nevertheless, it is an heroic and magnanimous 
deed, and no Prussian court-martial will dare inflict punish- 
ment on him. We do not yet know the urgent circumstances 
obliging the general to make this decision; we do not yet 
know from what dangers he may have preserved the Prussian 
army by his quick and resolute step.” 

“ But we know that he has committed an unparalleled 
crime against discipline!” 

“ A crime by which he may perhaps have saved Prussia from 
utter destruction! The general will be able to justifv his 
deed.” 

“ But it seems that he does not even deem it necessary to 
inform me of his proceedings,” exclaimed the king, indig- 
nantly. “ He appears to have made himself dictator, and as 
he does not recognize my military laws, he refuses also to 
acknowledge me as commander-in-chief, to whom he owes 
obedience.” 

“ Your majesty, I believe there is his justification already,” 
said Hardenberg, pointing at Timm the chamberlain, who 
reentered the room at this moment. 

“Well, what is it, Timm?” asked the king, hastily. 

“ Your majesty, a courier from General von York has just 
arrived; he is bearer of dispatches, which he is to deliver to 
your majesty in person.” 

*The king’s own words.— Vide Droysen’s “ Life of York,” vol. ii., p. 36. 


THE DEFECTION OF GENERAL YORK. 


135 


“Who is the courier?” asked the king. 

“ The general’s aide-de-camp, Major Thile.” 

“ Let him come in,” said the king. 

The jingle of spurs, and heavy, weary footsteps were heard 
approaching; Major von Thile entered. His uniform was 
covered with dust and mud; his hair hung in wet locks upon 
his forehead, and there shone in his mustache the snow-flakes 
with which the stormy night had adorned it. 

“Did you arrive now?” asked the king, eying him closely. 

“ I did, your majesty, and, agreeably to the orders of Gen- 
eral von York, have had myself driven directly to the royal 
palace, for the general deemed it of the highest importance 
that I should deliver my dispatches as soon as possible to your 
majesty. Hence I rode night and day, and, my horse break- 
ing down to-day, I was obliged to take a carriage.” 

“ But the French courier reached Berlin earlier than you 
did,” said the king, gruffly. “ How does that happen? Have 
the French quicker horses or more devoted soldiers?” 

“No, your majesty, their road to Berlin was shorter than 
mine, that is all. As I could not ride across the French 
camp, I had to take a roundabout road by way of Gumbinnen. 
This caused a delay of four hours.” 

“Give me your dispatches,” said the king. 

Major Thile handed him a large sealed paper. The king 
extended his hand to take it, but suddenly withdrew it again 
and started back. 

“No,” he said, “ it does not behoove a king to receive let- 
ters from a traitorous subject — a rebellious soldier. Take 
this dispatch, M. Chancellor; open and read it to me. Give 
it to his excellency.” 

Major Thile handed Hardenberg the letter, and, while he 
was doing so, the eyes of the two men met. The major’s eyes 
expressed an anxious question, those of Hardenberg made him 
a sad and painful reply, and both were unable to restrain a sigh. 

“Read,” said the king, stepping into the window-niche, 
folding his hands on his breast, and placing himself so that 
the curtains shaded his face, and screened it from the two 
gentlemen. 

Hardenberg unfolded the paper and read as follows: 

“To his Majesty the King: — Tauroggen, December 30, 
1812. — Placed in a very unfavorable position by setting out at 
a later day than the marshal did, and being ordered to march 
from Mitau to Tilsit, for th^ sole purpose of covering the re- 


136 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


treat of the seventh division, I have been compelled, on 
account of impassable roads, and very severe weather, to con- 
clude with the Russian commander, Major-General Diebitsch, 
the enclosed convention, which I beg leave to lay before your 
majesty. Firmly convinced that a continuation of the march 
would have unavoidably brought about the dissolution of the 
whole corps, and the loss of its entire artillery and baggage, as 
was the case of the retreat of the grand army, I believe it was 
incumbent upon me, as your majesty’s faithful subject, to re- 
gard your interest, and no longer that of your ally, for whom 
our auxiliary corps would only have been sacrificed without 
being able to afford him any real assistance in the desperate 
predicament in which he was placed. The convention im- 
poses no obligations whatever upon your majesty, but it pre- 
serves to you a corps that gives value to the old alliance, or a 
new one, if such should be concluded, and prevents your 
majesty from being at the mercy of an ally at whose hands 
you would have to receive as a gift the preservation or restora- 
tion of your states. I would willingly lay my head at the feet 
of your majesty if I have erred; I would die with the joyous 
conviction of having at least committed no act contrary to my 
duty as a faithful subject and a true Prussian. Now or never 
is the time for your majesty to extricate yourself from the 
thraldom of an ally whose intentions in regard to Prussia are 
veiled in impenetrable darkness, and justify the most serious 
alarm. That consideration has guided me. God grant it 
may be for the salvation of the country! — York.” * 

A pause ensued. The king still stood with folded arms in 
the window-niche, his face shaded by the curtains, and in- 
accessible to the anxious and searching glances of Harden- 
berg and the major. 

“ Does your majesty now command me to read the conven- 
tion?” asked the minister. 

“No,” said the king, sternly, “what do I care for a conven- 
tion drawn up by a traitor? I would not be at liberty to 
accept it even though it should secure me new provinces. — ■ 
Major Thile!” 

“Your majesty!” said the major, advancing a few steps 
with stiff, military bearing. 

“ Were you present at the negotiations preceding this con- 
vention? Are you familiar with the circumstances that led 
to it?” 

^ Dro.ysen’s “Life of York,” vol. i., p. 493. 


THE DEFECTION OF GENERAL YORK. 


137 


4/ Yes, your majesty; General von York deigned to repose 
implicit confidence in me ; I am perfectly familiar with the 
course of the negotiations, and was present when the conven- 
tion was concluded. I observed the inward struggles of the 
general ; I witnessed the terrible conflict that took place in his 
breast between his duty as a soldier and his conscience as a 
faithful subject of your majesty. As a soldier he was con- 
scious of the crime he was about to commit against discipline; 
as a faithful subject, he felt that he ought to commit it if he 
wished to avoid plunging a corps of ten thousand men, be- 
longing to your majesty alone, into utter and irretrievable 
destruction.” 

“Did the negotiations last a long time? Speak 1 I want 
to know all ; but, understand me well, the truth. No pro- 
testations! Speak now!” 

“ Yes, your majesty, the negotiations had been going on for 
some time; in fact, ever since the so-called ‘grand army’ 
made its appearance in miserable, ragged, and starving squads 
— mere crowds of woe-begone, famished beggars— while the 
splendid and powerful Russian forces were constantly ap- 
proaching closer to our positions and the Prussian frontier. 
The Russian generals, Prince Wittgenstein and General Die- 
bitsch, were sending one messenger after another to York and 
informing him of the dangers of his position, surrounded on 
all sides by Russian troops. They advised him therefore to 
yield, unless he wished needlessly to expose the soldiers of 
your majesty to inevitable destruction. They urged him, for 
the salvation of Prussia, to grasp the saving hand that was 
being held out to him, and compel Prussia to forsake an 
utterly ruined ally, who, in order to secure a brief respite, 
would assuredly not hesitate to sacrifice for his own benefit 
Prussia’s last strength and resources. But the general was 
still unable to make up his mind to take a step which might 
be disavowed by your majesty. In the mean time, however, 
the news came that Memel had been taken and occupied by 
the Russians, and Prince Wittgenstein simultaneously sent 
word that he had placed a corps of fifty thousand men on the 
banks of the Niemen, and was ready to pursue the French 
army, which would now seek safety in Prussia. Prince Witt- 
genstein, therefore, demanded categorically whether York 
would leave the French army, or whether he was to be con- 
sidered a part of it, and an enemy of Russia.” 

“And what did York reply?” asked the king, hastily. 

10 


138 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Your majesty, he was silent. Even we, his confidants, 
did not know what decision he had come to. Suddenly a 
messenger from Marshal Macdonald, who had succeeded in 
getting into our lines, appeared at York’s headquarters. He 
informed the general that the French troops of the marshal 
were near Piktupohnen, and brought orders that York should 
march to that place, where Macdonald would await him, and 
that the French and Prussian forces should then be united. 
Henceforth further hesitation was out of the question. The 
messengers, both of the Russian General Diebitsch and the 
French Marshal Macdonald, were at his headquarters, and in- 
sisted that he should make up his mind as to the course to be 
pursued by his corps. York either had to set out at once and 
force a passage through the Russian lines, in order to join 
the French marshal at Piktupohnen, or to refuse to obey the 
marshal’s orders, and, instead of marching upon Piktupoh- 
nen, join the Russians, and proceed to Prussia. But General 
York had not yet made up his mind. Toward nightfall an- 
other messenger from General Diebitsch arrived at his head- 
quarters. This messenger was Lieutenant-Colonel Clausewitz, 
whom Diebitsch had sent to insist again on a categorical 
reply. York received him sullenly, and said to him: ‘Keep 
aloof from me. I do not wish to have any thing to do with 
you. Your accursed Cossacks have allowed a messenger from 
Macdonald to pass through your lines, and he has brought me 
orders to march upon Piktupohnen, and there join him. All 
doubts are at an end. Your troops do not arrive; you are too 
weak; I decline continuing negotiations which would cost me 
my head. ’ ” * 

“Did the general really say so?” asked the king, quickly. 
“Do you tell me the truth?” 

“ Yes, your majesty, it is the whole truth. GeneralYork 
said so; I was present when Clausewitz came to him. I 
remained with Colonel Roden in the room when Clausewitz, 
at last, at his urgent request, received from General York per- 
mission to deliver to him at least the letters he had brought 
with him from Generals d’Anvray and Diebitsch. The gen- 
eral read them; he then fixed his piercing eyes on Clausewitz, 
and said: ‘Clausewitz, you are a Prussian! Do you believe 
that General d’Anvray’s letter is sincere, and that Wittgen- 
stein’s troops will be on the Niemen on the 31st of December? 
Can you give me your word of honor upon it?’ Lieutenant- 

* York’s own words.— Vide Droysen, vol. i., p. 486. 


THE DEFECTION OF GENERAL YORK. 


139 


Colonel Clausewitz gave him his word of honor. York was 
silent, and repeatedly paced the room, absorbed in his reflec- 
tions; he then gave Clausewitz his hand, and said in a firm 
voice, and with a sublime air, ‘You have me! Tell General 
Diebitsch that we will hold an interview in the morning at 
the mill of Poscherun, and that I have made up my mind to 
forsake the French and their cause. I will not go to Piktu- 
pohnen !’ When he said so, we who witnessed that great mo- 
ment were no longer able to restrain our transports. Forgetful 
alike of etiquette and discipline, Roden, Clausewitz, and my- 
self, rushed up to the general to embrace him, thanking him 
with tearful eyes, and telling him that he had fulfilled the 
most ardent wishes of the whole corps, and that all Prussian 
officers would receive with heart-felt rejoicings the news that 
we were to be delivered from the French alliance. But York 
gazed on us with grave, gloomy eyes, and said, with a faint 
smile: ‘It is all very well for you, young men, to talk in this 
way. But the head of your old commander is tottering on 
his shoulders. ’ * In the morning he summoned all the officers 
of his corps to his headquarters, and informed them in an 
affecting speech of the decision he had come to.” 

“ What did he say?” asked the king. “ Can you repeat his 
words to me?” 

“I can, your majesty; for, after returning to my room, I 
wrote down the speech I had heard in my memorandum-book, 
and I believe every word of it was engraven in my memory.” 

“ Have you your memorandum-book here?” 

“I have, your majesty.” 

“ Read!” 

Major Thile drew his memorandum-book from his breast- 
pocket, and read as follows: “‘Gentlemen, the French army 
has been annihilated by Heaven’s avenging hand; the time 
has come for us to recover our independence by uniting with 
the Russian army. Let those who share my sentiments, and 
are ready to sacrifice their lives for the fatherland and for 
liberty, follow me; those who are unwilling to do so may re- 
main with the French. Let the issue of our cause be what- 
ever it may, I shall always esteem and honor even those who 
do not share my sentiments, and who prefer to remain. If 
we succeed, the king may, perhaps, pardon me for what I 
have done; if we are unsuccessful, then I must lose my head. 
In that case, I pray my friends to take care of my wife and 

♦This whole scene is historical.— Vide Droysen, vol. i., p. 487. 


140 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


children.’ Your majesty,” said Major Thile, closing his 
memorandum-book , “that was the whole speech.” 

“And what did the officers reply to it?” asked the king. 
“Mind! the truth! — I want to know the truth!” 

“And I am courageous enough to tell you the truth, 
although I am afraid that your majesty will be displeased. 
All the officers received the general’s speech with unbounded 
transports and with tears of joy. They shook hands, they 
embraced, and greeted each other, as if they had suddenly re- 
turned from a foreign country to their beloved fatherland; as 
if their tongues had suddenly been loosened, and liberty to 
use the language of their country had been restored to them. 
No one thought of remaining with the French; every one was 
animated with enthusiasm at the thought that he should at 
length risk his life for the cause of his country and his king; 
every one had in his heart, and on his lips, a fervent prayer 
for the new sacred cause which he was to serve again, and an 
imprecation for that which he had been obliged to serve. 
When the general exclaimed, in a ringing voice, ‘Let us then, 
with the assistance of Providence, enter upon and achieve the 
task of liberation, ’ all shouted ‘Amen! We will die rather 
than serve the enemy longer !’ Your majesty, I have now told 
you nothing but the whole truth. If the general deserves 
punishment, all the officers of his corps deserve it. He called 
upon us to part with him if we did not share his convictions. 
But none of us did so, for his convictions were ours, and we 
are ready to share his punishment, too, if your majesty should 
punish York for what he did, as a noble and devoted patriot!” 

“Your remarks are impertinent, major,” said the king, 
sternly. “ I will not allow myself to be dazzled by your 
tirades. Go! You need repose. Report to me early in the 
morning. You will then return with dispatches to the army. 
Good-by!” 


CHAPTER XY. 

THE WARNING. 

“Well, M. Chancellor,” said the king, when Thile had 
left the room, “ tell me your opinion — the best way by which 
we may counteract this senseless and rash step, and succeed 
in preserving our country from the disastrous consequences.” 


THE WARNING. 


141 


“ Your majesty, then, is not willing to approve of the hold 
act York has taken?” asked Hardenberg. 

“ I hope you did not indulge for a moment in such a belief,” 
exclaimed the king. “ York was perhaps justified in preserv- 
ing his troops from being needlessly sacrificed; but he should 
have based his conduct solely on this idea, and from it have 
explained his action. Instead of doing so, he justifies it by 
political motives, and thereby compromises and endangers my 
own position. Now, I am myself entirely at the mercy of 
France, and utterly destitute of means to brave the anger of 
Napoleon.” * 

“No,” said Hardenberg, “your majesty is not entirely at 
the mercy of France, and Napoleon’s anger must no longer be 
allowed to terrify Prussia. You have only to raise your voice 
and call out your faithful subjects, and the whole nation will 
rise as one man ; thousands will rally round their king, and 
you will enter with an invincible army upon the holy war of 
liberation. It will not be with a visible army only that you 
will take the field — an invisible army will accompany you — 
the army of minds and hearts, the grand army whose chief- 
tain is public opinion, whose soldier is every beggar on the 
street, whose cannon is every word that is uttered, every love- 
greeting and every blessing. Oh, your majesty, this ‘grand 
army ’ will pave the way for you, and will enlist everywhere 
new recruits, fill your military chests, clothe and feed your 
soldiers, and, under your colors, fight the enemy whom all 
Germany — all Europe hates intensely, and whose yoke every 
one feels weighing upon his neck. Oh, let me assure your 
majesty that it is only for you to be willing, and all Prussia 
will rally round you for the war of liberation!” 

“ But I must not be willing,” said the king; “ it is contrary 
to my honor and my conscience. I pledged my word to the 
Emperor Napoleon; I am his ally; I am deeply impressed 
with the sanctity of my existing treaties with France, and 
feel, as every man of honor would, that the obligation to 
maintain them inviolate is only rendered the more sacred by 
the disasters which have overwhelmed the imperial armies. 
Besides, you look at things in a light by far too partial and 
rose-colored. Do not confound your enthusiastic hopes with 
stern reality. The ‘grand army of public opinion,’ to which 
you refer, is an ally which cannot be depended upon — it is 
fickle, turning with every wind — it is an ally prodigal of 

* The king’s words.— Vide Droysen, vol. i., p. 488. 


142 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


words, but not of deeds. If my soldiers were to be clothed 
and fed by public opinion, they would likely go naked and die 
of hunger. If my military chests wait for public opinion to 
fill them, they would remain empty. Public opinion, by the 
way, has always been on my side and against Napoleon; it 
has, for six years past, disapproved — nay, indignantly con- 
demned his course toward Prussia, and still it has permitted 
Napoleon to halve my states ; to take much more than he was 
entitled to by the treaty of Tilsit ; to leave his troops in my 
states, in spite of the express stipulations of the treaties ; to 
impose contributions on Prussia and extort their payment. 
Public opinion deplored it as a terrible calamity that I should 
be, as it were, a prisoner here in the capital of my own mon- 
archy, and at the palace of my ancestors, and live under the 
cannon of Spandau, a fortress unlawfully occupied by the 
French. Public opinion, I say, deplored my fate, but it did 
not come to my assistance ; it did not preserve me from the 
humiliations which, at Dresden, I had to endure, not only at 
the hands of Napoleon, but of all the German princes. Do 
not, therefore, allude again to your ‘grand army of public 
opinion;’ I despise it, and know its fickle and faithless char- 
acter. By virtue of the existing treaties, I made my troops 
participate in Napoleon’s campaign against Russia. More 
than one-half of my soldiers have been devoured by wolves on 
the fields of Russia; the other half are now in open insurrec- 
tion. And these are the troops with whom I am to conquer! 
— conquer that powerful France which is able to call up fresh 
armies as from the ground, and into the treasury of which her 
unlimited resources are pouring millions ! No, no; I will not 
plunge into so hazardous ail enterprise. I will not, for the 
sake of a chimera, risk my last provinces, the inheritance of 
my children; I could joyously give up my life in order to 
bring about a change of our present deplorable situation, but 
I am not at liberty to endanger my crown — the crown of my 
successor. Prussia must not be blotted from the map of 
nations; she shall not be swallowed by France, and I am there- 
fore obliged patiently to bear the burden of these times and 
submit to circumstances. Hence, I am not at liberty to par- 
don General York’s crime, but must punish him for his con- 
duct in accordance with the laws of war. I must give satis- 
faction to the Emperor of France for the unheard-of conduct 
of my general, and he shall have it! General von York shall 
be superseded in his command, cashiered, and put on his trial 


THE WARNING. 


143 


before a military commission. General Kleist will take com- 
mand of the troops in his place.” 

“ And will your majesty cashier likewise all the officers who 
received the announcement of the hold resolution of their gen- 
eral with enthusiastic cheers?” asked Hardenberg. “ Will 
your majesty likewise put on trial the spirit of resistance per- 
vading the whole Prussian corps? I beseech you again, in the 
name of your army and your people — in the name of the mag- 
nanimous queen whose inspiring eyes are gazing upon us from 
yonder portrait — take a bold and sublime stand! Risk every 
thing in order to win every thing! Approve York’s step, 
place yourself at the head of the army, call upon the Prussians 
— the Germans — to rally round your flag! Oh, your majesty, 
believe me, Germany is only waiting for your war-cry. Every 
thing is prepared, all are armed — all weapons, all hands are 
ready — all eyes are fixed upon your majesty! Oh, do not hesi- 
tate longer; make our night end, and the new day commence. 
Declare war against France — leave her to her destiny!” 

The king walked with rapid steps and in visible agitation ; 
and, whenever he passed the queen’s portrait, he raised his 
eyes toward it with an anxious expression. Standing in front 
of Hardenberg, and laying his hand on his shoulder, he looked 
gravely into his pale, quivering face. “ Hardenberg,” he said 
at last, in an undertone, “ I cannot allow General York to re- 
main unpunished; I am not at liberty to approve his course, 
even — well, yes, even though I should wish to do so. As 
commander-in-chief of my army it is above all incumbent on 
me to maintain discipline. York acted without regard to his 
instructions, and without having received any orders from 
me to enter into so dangerous a course, and I ought not after- 
ward to approve what one of my generals has done in so reck- 
less and arbitrary a manner. That would be rendering 
obedience dependent on the whims and inclinations of every 
officer of my army. Unconditional obedience, entire subor- 
dination of the individual will — that is the bond which keeps 
armies together, and I cannot loosen it. Where sacred and 
necessary principles are at stake, I must not listen to the voice 
of my heart!” 

“ But still you ought to listen to the voice of prudence, 
your majesty,” exclaimed Hardenberg, emphatically. . “ Now, 
prudence renders it necessary for you to fight at this juncture 
against the perfidious enemy, who never fulfilled his treaties, 
never kept his word, and is even now plotting mischief.” 


144 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ What do you mean?” asked the king, hastily. 

“ I mean that your majesty is every day in danger of being 
arrested at the slightest symptom that may appear suspicious 
to the French gentlemen, and of being secretly conveyed to 
France. I mean that the French are anxious that you should 
give them such a pretext, so that they might charge you with 
secret machinations, send you to France, and appropriate the 
whole of Prussia. Little King Jerome is tired of his impro- 
vised kingdom of Westphalia. He longs for a more exalted 
throne, the existence of which has already been consecrated by 
centuries, and for a crown which need not, like his present 
one, be specially created for him. Napoleon has promised his 
brother the crown and throne of Prussia in case your majesty 
should give him the slightest ground for complaint. He has 
therefore here in Berlin a host of spies charged with watching 
every word, movement, and step of your majesty. Oh, be- 
lieve me, you are at all hours in danger of seizure and secret 
removal. I am familiar with the whole plot; by means of 
bribery, dissimulation, and cunning, I have wormed myself 
into the confidence of, and gained over to my side, some of 
these spies. They have informed me that every day, shortly 
before nightfall, a closed carriage drives up to the royal pal- 
ace, and waits there all the night long; that, at a short dis- 
tance from it, soldiers are posted in isolated groups behind 
the trees, on the opera place, and the corners of the streets 
intersecting the Linden; that the royal palace is surrounded 
consiantly by a number of agents of the French police, and 
that some of these men always find means to slip into the 
palace, where they conceal themselves in dark corners and in 
the garden, or the yard, in order to watch every movement of 
your majesty. What should be the object of all these pro- 
ceedings, but, on the first occasion, at the slightest symptom 
of your defection, to seize the sacred person of your majesty, 
to carry into effect Jerome’s ambitious schemes, and transform 
the theatre king into a real king?” 

Frederick William’s face grew pale and gloomy; he com- 
pressed his lips as he used to do when any thing displeasing 
was communicated to him. “ You have told me one of the 
absurd stories with which nurses try to frighten their chil- 
dren,” he said, harshly. “ But I do not believe it, nor shall I 
allow myself to be frightened and take imprudent steps. No 
one will dare attack or arrest me. I am the faithful ally of 
France, and have proved by my actions that I am animated 


THE WABNING. 


145 


with honest intentions toward her, and stand sincerely by the 
f alliance which I have pledged my word to maintain.” 

“But suppose France should look upon this defection of 
General York as brought about by the secret orders of your 
majesty? Suppose Napoleon, in his incessant distrust, and 
Jerome, in his ardent desire for the possession of Prussia, 
should, notwithstanding all protestations of your majesty to 
the contrary, believe in an understanding between York and 
his king, and therein find a welcome pretext for carrying into 
effect their infamous schemes, seizing your majesty, and an- 
nihilating Prussia?” 

“ I shall give them such convincing proofs of my sentiments 
that it will be impossible for them to believe in an under- 
standing between myself and York,” exclaimed the king. 
“ Enough ! I adhere to my resolution. York must he re- 
moved from his command, and General Kleist will he his 
successor. I shall, besides, address an autograph letter to 
Murat, the emperor’s lieutenant at the head of the army, and 
express to him my profound indignation at what has occurred, 
and inform him of the penalty which I am about to inflict 
on York.” 

“Very well,” said Hardenberg, sighing, “if your majesty 
so resolves, it must be done ; but it should be done in haste — 
this very hour. Count St. Marsan is waiting for me at his 
residence, to learn from me the decisions of your majesty be- 
fore sending off his couriers to the Emperor Napoleon. It 
will be necessary for us to lay before him the letter which your 
majesty intends to write to the King of Naples, as well as the 
formal order in regard to the removal of General York. You 
ought also at once to name the courier who is to convey your 
majesty’s orders and letters to the two camps in Old Prussia.” 

“You are right; all this must be done immediately,” said 
the king, seizing his silver bell and ringing. The door 
opened, and Timm the chamberlain entered. “ Go to my 
aide-de-camp, Major Natzmer,” said the king to him. “In- 
form him that he is to set out immediately on a journey, and 
should, therefore, quickly prepare. In four hours every thing 
must be done, and Major Natzmer must then be in my ante- 
room. Go yourself to him, Timm, and inform him of my 
orders. This one courier will be sufficient,” said the king, 
turning again to Hardenberg, after Timm had left the room. 
“ Natzmer will first repair to the headquarters of the King of 
Naples, deliver my letter to him, show him the orders in- 


146 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


tended for Kleist and York, and then go to the Russian camp 
in order to deliver these orders to my generals.” 

“ Will your majesty not write also a letter to the Emperor 
Alexander, begging him to spare your troops, whom Wittgen- 
stein henceforth will consider enemies, and to address a word 
of consolation and encouragement to the emperor, whose 
magnanimous heart will bitterly feel this new disappoint- 
ment?” 

“ Very well,” said the king, after a brief reflection, “ I will 
write such a letter to Alexander, and Natzmer shall himself 
take it after previously seeing Murat, Wittgenstein, and 
York.” 

An hour afterward the king wrote his letters, and Harden - 
berg drew up the decree removing York from the command 
of the army. The chancellor of state then left the king’s 
cabinet to repair to the residence of the French ambassador, 
and inform him of the resolutions of his majesty. The king 
looked after him long and musingly, and, folding his hands 
behind him, paced his room. A profound silence reigned 
around him; the storm of the cold January night swept dense 
masses of snow against the windows, making them rattle as if 
spectral hands were tapping at the panes ; the wax-tapers on 
the silver candelabra, standing on the king’s desk, had burned 
low, and their flickering light flashed on the noble portrait of 
the queen. The king noticed the fitfully illuminated face 
gazing upon him, as it were, with a quick and repeated greet- 
ing; he could not help gently nodding, as if to return the 
salutation, and then approached the portrait with slow steps. 

“Louisa,” he said, in a loud, solemn voice, “God has 
counted your tears, and taken upon Himself the revenge of 
your wrongs. It was at Piktupohnen where you first met 
Napoleon, and where the overbearing man bowed your noble 
head in the dust. At Piktupohnen the Queen of Prussia im- 
plored the emperor of the French to spare her country, and 
grant her lenient terms of peace. It was France now that 
was waiting for Prussia at the same place, asking Prussia for 
assistance, and Prussia refused it. Where the disgraceful 
alliance commenced has been seen its bitter end. God is just; 
He has counted your tears, and He is preparing your revenge. 
It began at Piktupohnen.” 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


147 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE DIPLOMATIST. 

During an hour Chancellor von Hardenberg, in the cabi- 
net of the French ambassador, Count St. Marsan, conferred in 
an animated and grave manner as to Prussia’s new position, 
and the guaranties she offered to France for the sincerity of 
her alliance. Count St. Marsan felt entirely satisfied, after 
reading the letter which King Frederick William had written 
to the King of Naples, and the decree removing York from 
his command. He cordially shook hands with the chancellor, 
and assured him that this disagreeable affair would not leave 
the least vestige of distrust; that his august emperor would 
also feel entirely satisfied of the sincerity of the king’s senti- 
ments. 

“ And you may add that this will also satisfy the emperor 
of the sincerity of my sentiments toward him,” said Harden- 
berg, smiling. “I know that Napoleon has unfortunately 
often distrusted me, and has believed me to be animated with 
feelings hostile to his greatness. Henceforth, however, his 
majesty will have to admit that I am one of his most reliable 
and faithful adherents. It was I who prevailed upon the king 
to stand by France so firmly and constantly. You are aware 
of it, and I need not conceal it from you, that King Fred- 
erick William loves the Emperor Alexander, and would be 
happy, if circumstances enabled him, to renew his alliance 
with his friend Alexander. The Emperor of Russia has 
already stretched out his hand toward him, and is ODly wait- 
ing for Frederick William to grasjuit. York’s defection was 
carefully prepared on the part of Russia; it was to be the im- 
pulse which should cause the king to take Alexander’s hand. 
And let me tell you, confidentially, he was not only greatly 
inclined to do so, but even the enthusiasm of those gentlemen 
of his suite, who, heretofore, had always been ardent adher- 
ents of the Emperor of the French, had cooled down since the 
disasters of the grand army in Russia, and they believed it to 
be incumbent on them to advise the king to join Russia. 
But I— I have obtained a victory over them all, and, by my 
zeal and eloquence, have succeeded in convincing Frederick 
William that just now a firm maintenance of the alliance with 
France is most advantageous both to the honor and welfare of 


148 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Prussia. The king saw the force of my arguments, and the 
consequence was that he rejected the proposals of Russia, and 
declared in favor of a faithful continuance of the alliance with 
France, as is proved by this letter to Murat, and this decree, 
removing York, which I have drawn up, and which is already 
signed. France may now confidently count on Prussia, for 
you see we have passed through our ordeal, and have proved 
faithful.” 

“Yes, you have,” exclaimed Count St. Marsan, “and the 
reward and acknowledgment due to your fidelity will soon be 
conferred on you. The emperor knows full well that the 
magnanimous and disinterested character of your excellency 
will not permit him to bestow upon you any other rewards and 
thanks than those of honor and of the heart. As for the lat- 
ter, please let me return them to yon now in the name of the 
emperor and of France, and perhaps you will authorize me to 
inform him that your excellency will consider the grand cross 
of the Legion of Honor as a sufficient acknowledgment.” 

“Great Heaven!” exclaimed Hardenberg, with a face radi- 
ant with joy, “ you have divined the object of my most secret 
wishes. You have read my mind, and understood my am- 
bition. There is but one order to wear which is a proud 
honor, and this order has not as yet decorated my breast.” 

Count St. Marsan bent closer to the ear of the chancellor. 
“My noble friend,” he said, smiling, and in a low voice, “we 
shall fasten this order to the breast of the chancellor of state 
on the day when we sign the marriage-contract of the crown 
prince and a princess of the house of Napoleon.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Hardenberg, “ let it be so. I accept this 
condition. I shall not claim, nor deem myself worthy of re- 
ceiving this longed-for order before the day when the Prus- 
sian crown prince will be betrothed to an imperial princess of 
France. To bring about this joyful event will henceforth be 
for me an affair of the heart, and, moreover, to such an extent 
that, if this honor should previously be offered me, I would 
refuse it, because I first wish to deserve it.” 

“ And does your excellency believe that you will have to 
wait long?” asked Count St. Marsan. “ Do you believe that 
the day when the betrothal will take place is yet remote?” 

“ I hope not. The crown prince will be confirmed next 
month, and after his confirmation it will be time to speak of 
his marriage. I am satisfied that all will \urn out well, and 
conformably to our wishes, provided — ” 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


149 


“Well?” asked St. Marsan, when Hardenberg suddenly- 
paused. “ Pray, your excellency, confide in me, and tell me 
the whole truth. You may rest assured of my most heart-felt 
gratitude, my entire discretion, and the most unreserved con- 
fidence on my part. I beseech you, therefore, to speak out.” 

“Well, then,” said Hardenberg, in a low voice, and with 
an air of entire sincerity, “ I was going to say that every thing 
wculd turn out conformably to your wishes, provided the king 
do not listen to the incessant secret entreaties and insinua- 
tions of Russia, and the new Russian party at our court. So 
long as I remain here, I am afraid of nothing; but if those 
gentlemen should succeed in persuading the king to leave 
Berlin, and repair to a city where he would be closer to Rus- 
sia, then I would really be afraid.” 

“And your excellency believes that the king might enter- 
tain such an intention?” asked Count St. Marsan, in breath- 
less suspense. 

Hardenberg shrugged his shoulders. “ I do not want to 
believe it,” he said, “ but I am almost afraid of it. However, 
both you and I will be vigilant. But listen, your excellency, 
the clock is striking two! Two o’clock in the morning! 
Both of us have yet to send off couriers, and then we may well 
be allowed to seek an hour’s sleep for our exhausted bodies. 
Good-night, then, my dear count and ally! — good-night! I 
hasten to the king to tell him that France will be content with 
the satisfaction which we offer her, and thereby I shall procure 
him a quiet and peaceful slumber for the present night.” 

“Ah, you are in truth a magician, your excellency!” said 
St. Marsan, gayly, “for you understand both how to take 
away and give sleep. So long as I am near you, I forget all 
weariness; and after you have left me I shall, thanks to your 
words and promises, be able to sleep more quietly than I have 
done for a long time. You have quieted my soul, and my 
body therefore will also find rest. Bid me good-night again, 
for when you say so I will be sure to have it.” 

“Good-night, then, my dear count,” said Hardenberg, 
shaking hands with his friend, and withdrawing, with a smile, 
from the room. 

This affectionate smile was still playing round the lips of 
the chancellor when he entered his carriage. But no sooner 
had its door closed and the carriage was moving, than an ex- 
pression of gloomy hatred overspread his features. “ I hope I 
have quite succeeded in misleading St. Marsan and arousing 


150 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


li is suspicions in regard to the king,” he said to himself. 
“ As the king refuses to listen to my warnings and supplica- 
tions, and does not believe it to be possible that France should 
dare seize him, it is time to give him some irrefutable proofs. 
Perhaps he may then make up his mind to leave Berlin. I 
may sign this longed-for betrothal at some other place, too, 
and then fasten on my breast the order for which I am long- 
ing. In truth,” he added, laughing, “it is no fault of mine 
that dear Count St. Marsan interprets my desire in the way 
he does. I did not name to him the order I wish to wear. 
It is no fault of mine that he imagines I wish for the grand 
cross of the Legion of Honor. To be sure, I wish to obtain 
an order of honor, but one of a German patriot, and that I 
can only obtain from the gratitude of my countrymen and im- 
partial history.” 

The carriage stopped in front of the royal palace, and Har- 
denberg hastened to the king. Silence reigned in the ante- 
room ; a few sleepy footmen were sitting on the cane chairs 
beside the door, and scarcely took notice of the arrival of the 
chancellor, who passed them with soft, hurried steps, and en- 
tered the small reception-room. Here, too, all was still, and 
the two candles on the table, which had burned low, shed but 
a dim light in the room. The chancellor noticed two figures 
sitting on both sides of the door leading into the adjoining 
room, and slowly swinging to and fro, like the pendulum of a 
clock. He softly approached the two sleepers. “Ah,” he 
whispered, with a smile, “ there sleeps Timm, the chamber- 
lain, who is to announce my arrival to the king; and here 
sleeps Major Natzmer, to whom I want to say a word before 
he sets out.” He laid his hand gently on the major’s shoul- 
der. Natzmer jumped up at once and drew himself up in a 
stiff, military attitude. “You are very prudent in nodding 
a little now,” said Hardenberg, kindly giving him his hand, 
“for I am afraid you will not find much time for it during 
the remainder of the night. You are ready to set out im- 
mediately, are you not?” 

“I am, your excellency.” 

“And your dispatches, I believe, are ready, too. — My dear 
Timm,” he then said to the chamberlain, “pray announce my 
arrival to his majesty.” 

“I believe it is unnecessary,” said Timm, with the famil- 
iarity of a favorite servant. “ His majesty is waiting for your 
excellency.” 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


151 


“You had better announce my arrival,” said Hardenberg, 
smiling, “for it might be possible that I surprise the king in 
the same manner as I did these two gentlemen here, and that 
would be disagreeable.” 

“That is true,” said Timm, hastily approaching the door. 
“I will immediately announce your excellency.” 

No sooner had he left the room, than the chancellor laid 
his hand on the major’s arm, and bent over him. “ My 
friend,” he said, in a low, hurried voice, “I know you share 
my views.” 

“ Your excellency knows that I adore you* as the statesman 
who holds the future happiness of Prussia in his hands, and 
that I abhor the French, who have brought Prussia to the 
brink of ruin.” 

“Will you do something to bring her back from this 
brink?” 

“ Yes, your excellency, though it cost my life.” 

“That would be a high price. No; we stand in need of 
your life and your arm, for Prussia will soon need all her 
soldiers. What I ask of you is not near so valuable. Listen 
to me. The king sends you as a courier to Old Prussia. Re- 
pair, in the first place, to Murat’s headquarters, and deliver 
the king’s letter to him. Go to the Russian headquarters, 
and call upon Prince Wittgenstein. All I ask of you is to in- 
form Prince Wittgenstein that you are the bearer of two 
dispatches. Tell him that one is an autograph letter from the 
king to the Emperor Alexander, and the other a decree 
removing General York from his command, and ordering him 
to be put on his trial before a military commission.” 

“What!” exclaimed Natzmer, in dismay. “Our noble 
York is to be removed from his command?” 

“Yes; the king has resolved to remove and cashier him, 
because he has gone over with his corps to the Russians.” 

“York gone over to the Russians!” exclaimed Natzmer, 
joyously. “ And for this wondrously bold step I am to bring 
him a decree superseding and cashiering him?” 

“ That is what the king orders you to do, and, of course, 
you will have to obey. But, I repeat to you, the only thing 
I ask of you is to inform Prince Wittgenstein what dispatches 
are in your hands, and what their contents are.” 

“ But suppose the king should not tell me any thing about 
them? Suppose their contents, therefore, should be unknown 
to me?” 


152 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ The king himself will communicate the contents to you, 
and even order you to mention everywhere on the road that 
you are the bearer of a decree cashiering York, the criminal 
general. It is of great importance to his majesty that every 
one, and, above all, France, should learn that he is highly 
incensed at York’s defection, and that — Hush ! I hear Timm 
coming! You will comply with my request?” 

“I shall inform Prince Wittgenstein of the contents of my 
dispatches.” 

“ In that case, I hope York will be safe! Hush!” 

The door opened again, and the chamberlain entered. 
“Your excellency was quite right,” he said; “ it was well that 
I announced your arrival. His majesty, like ourselves, had 
fallen asleep. But now he is awaiting you.” He opened the 
folding-doors, and Hardenberg hastened across the adjoining 
room to the king’s cabinet, to communicate to him the result 
of his interview with the French ambassador. 

An hour afterward Major Natzmer received three dispatches 
at the hands of the king. The first was a letter to Napoleon’s 
lieutenant at the head of the French army, the King of 
Naples. In this Frederick William informed Murat that he 
was filled with the most intense indignation at the step York 
had taken, and that he had commissioned Major Natzmer to 
deliver a royal decree to General Kleist, authorizing him to 
take command of the troops and arrest General York. He 
declared further in this letter that, as a matter of course, he 
refused to ratify the convention, and that the Prussian troops, 
commanded by General Kleist, should be, as they had been 
heretofore, subject to the orders of the Emperor Napoleon, 
and his lieutenant, the King of Naples.* The second dis- 
patch was confidential, to the Emperor Alexander, the con- 
tents of which the king had not communicated even to his 
chancellor of state. The third was, the decree superseding 
York, and ordering Kleist to take command of the troops. 

“I think,” said the king, after Natzmer had withdrawn, 
“ we have now done every thing to appease Napoleon’s wrath, 
and avert from Prussia all evil consequences. Are you not 
also of this opinion, M. Chancellor?” 

“ It only remains to send a special envoy to Napoleon him- 
self and assure him of your majesty’s profound indignation,” 
said Hardenberg, gloomily. “ The proud emperor, perhaps, 
expects such a proof of the fidelity of your majesty.” 

*Droysen’s “ Life of York,” vol. ii. , p. 37. 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


153 


The king cast a quick and searching glance on the gloomy 
countenance of the chancellor, and then gazed for some time 
musingly. “ You are right,” he said, after a pause; “ I must , 
send a special envoy to Paris. When it is necessary to appease 
a bloodthirsty tiger, no means should be left untried. I 
myself will write to Napoleon and assure him that I will faith- 
fully adhere to the alliance. Prince Hatzfeld will depart with 
this letter for Paris early in the morning.” 

“ Your majesty will then have done every thing to satisfy 
the French of the sincerity of your friendly intentions toward 
them, but I am afraid they do not care to be satisfied.” 

“ You believe, then, seriously that the French are menacing 
me?” asked the king, with a contemptuous smile. 

“ I am convinced of it, your majesty.” 

“ But what do you believe, then? What are you afraid of?” 

“ As I said before, I am afraid they will dare abduct the 
sacred person of your majesty, and I beseech you to be on 
your guard; never leave your palace alone and unarmed; 
never go into the street without being attended by an armed 
escort.” 

“Ah,” said the king, with a sad smile, “ do not the French 
always see to it that I am attended by an escort? Am I not 
always surrounded by their spies and eavesdroppers?” 

“ If your majesty is aware of this, why do you not yield to 
my entreaties? Why do you not leave Berlin?” 

“ Perhaps to go to Potsdam? Shall I be less watched there 
by the spies? Shall I there be less a prisoner?” 

“ No, your majesty ought to leave Berlin in order to deliver 
yourself at one blow, and thoroughly, from this intolerable 
espionage. Your majesty ought to make up your mind to go 
to Breslau. There you would be nearer your army; there 
your faithful subjects and followers would rally round you, 
and the Emperor Alexander perhaps would soon come thither. 

At all events, your majesty would there be secure from the 
French spies, and your adherents would be delivered from 
their anxiety for the personal safety of your majesty.” 

“ To Breslau !” exclaimed the king, anxiously. “ That is 
impossible! — that would be pouring oil ii^to the fire — that 
would be to advance on the path into which York has 
entered.” 

“It would be another step toward the deliverance of your 
majesty, the salvation of the country, and the annihilation of 
the tyrant!” said Hardenberg, raising his voice. 

11 


154 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


The king made no reply; he stepped to the window, and, 
turning his back to the chancellor, looked out musingly into 
the night. Hardenberg looked now at him, and then on the 
queen’s portrait. Suddenly his features grew milder, and an 
indescribable, imploring expression was to be seen in his eyes. 
“ Help me, queen,” he whispered, in a fervid tone. “ Direct 
his heart, guardian angel of Prussia; render it strong and 
firm, and — ” 

The king turned again to the chancellor and approached 
him. “I cannot comply with your request,” said Frederick 
William, “for, if I should go to Breslau, it would be equiva- 
lent to a declaration of war, and we are, unfortunately, not 
in a position to justify that. I must not rashly plunge myself 
and my country into a danger which probably would bring 
about our utter ruin. But I pledge you my word that, if 
your apprehensions should really be verified — if I really obtain 
proofs that my person and liberty are menaced, I shall then 
deem it incumbent on me to escape from this danger, and re- 
move the seat of government to a safer place — perhaps 
Breslau.” 

“ Is your majesty in earnest?” exclaimed Hardenberg, 
joyously. “ You really intend, after having satisfied yourself 
that dangers are threatening you here, to leave Berlin and 
place yourself beyond the reach of the French?” 

“ I pledge you my word of honor that such is my intention,” 
said the king, solemnly. “ And now, enough ! I believe both 
of us need a few hours’ rest. In the course of the forenoon I 
will write the letter which Prince Ilatzfeld is to take to Paris. 
Good-night, M. Chancellor!” 

“Drive me home as fast as your horses can run,” shouted 
Hardenberg to His coachman, on entering his carriage. 

“We shall be there in five minutes,” muttered the coach- 
man, whipping his horses into a gallop. 

Precisely five minutes afterward the carriage stopped in 
front of the chancellor’s residence, and a well-dressed young 
man, hastily pushing aside the footman, opened the coach 
door. 

“Ah, is it you ; my dear Richard?” said Hardenberg, sur- 
prised. “ Why have you not yet gone to bed?” 

“ Because I could not sleep while your excellency had not 
returned,” said the young man, assisting the minister in 
alighting. “It is nearly four o’clock; the whole house was 
greatly alarmed. ” 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


155 


“ Well, and what were you afraid of, you dear fools?” asked 
Hardenberg, smilingly, while ascending the staircase. 

“ That your enemies had found means to kidnap you, and 
that the French had resorted to such an outrage to get rid of 
their most dangerous and powerful adversary.” 

“Ah, you big children!” exclaimed Hardenberg, laughing. 
“ How could you give way to such senseless apprehensions 
while I was supping in a friendly way at the house of the 
French marshal?” 

“Just for that reason, your excellency,” said Richard, smil- 
ing. “ We may know well how to get into a mouse-trap, but 
we do not know how to get out again. A panic prevailed 
among your servants, and the footmen had already made up 
their minds to arm themselves, go to the house of Marshal 
Augereau, and forcibly deliver your excellency.” 

“I was lucky, therefore, in escaping from such ridicule,” 
said Hardenberg, gravely. “ A minister who is taken home 
by his servants vi et armis , because he takes the liberty not to 
return at an early hour — what a splendid farce that would be! 
Pray be kind enough to tell my servants that their anxiety 
was very foolish. The greatest cordiality prevails between 
myself and the French gentlemen, and never before has there 
been such a friendly understanding between France and Prus- 
sia. My servants should always remember that, and commit 
no follies.” 

He intentionally said this in so loud a tone that the two 
footmen who preceded him with lights, as well as the two 
servants who followed, heard and understood every word he 
uttered. Hardenberg knew, therefore, that all his servants, 
fifteen minutes afterward, would be informed of the new 
entente cordiale between Prussia and France; that all Berlin 
would be aware of it on the following day, and that he would 
thus have attained his object. 

“Your excellency will not yet retire?” asked Richard, 
when the minister, instead of going down the corridor to his 
bedroom, now halted at the door of his cabinet. 

“No, M. Private Secretary,” said Hardenberg, smiling. 
“ As you are still awake, and apparently not sleepy, let us 
hold a little business conference. Come!” 

No sooner had the servants put the lights on the table and 
left the room, than the face of the chancellor suddenly as- 
sumed a grave air. Ordering, with an imperious wave of his 
hand, his private secretary to be silent, he hastened to his 


156 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


desk and quickly wrote a few lines. “ Richard,” he said, 
casting the pen aside, and turning his head toward the young 
man, who witnessed his mysterious proceedings in great sur- 
prise, “Richard, come here!” 

The young man hastened to him, and when Hardenberg 
gave him his hand, with a kind smile, Richard stooped down 
and pressed a tender kiss on it. 

“ Ah, lips as glowing as yours are, should kiss only beauti- 
ful girls,” said Hardenberg, smiling. 

“But these lips like better to kiss the hand of my benefac- 
tor, my protector,” exclaimed the young man, “the kind 
hand of the man who extricated me from poverty, distress, 
and despair; who caused me to be fed, educated, and in- 
structed; and who (until I myself, by his liberal kindness, 
was enabled to discharge this sacred duty) secured to my poor 
sick mother an existence free from cares.” 

“Do not allude to these trifles,” said Hardenberg, care- 
lessly. “ Tell me, rather, do you regard me with respect and 
love?” 

“ Indescribably, your excellency ; with the tenderness of a 
son, with the devotedness and fidelity of an old servant.” 

“Will you give me a proof of it?” 

“ I will, your excellency, and should you demand my heart’s 
blood, I would willingly spill it for you!” 

“ Listen to me, then ! In five minutes you must be on 
horseback and ride at a gallop, night and day, until you reach 
the Russian camp.” 

“In three days,” said Richard, gravely, “but the journey 
will kill my horse.” 

“ I will give you two horses for him, provided you arrive 
sooner than Major Natzmer at the headquarters of Prince Witt- 
genstein, commander-in-chief of the Russian troops!” 

“Has Natzmer left Berlin already?” 

“Yes, about an hour since, and you know that he is con- 
sidered the most dashing and reckless horseman among all our 
officers. He has, moreover, another .advantage. He will ride 
through the French camp, and will thence go to the Russian 
army, which is in the rear of it; but you must ride around 
the French camp, and go by way of Gumbinnen, unnoticed 
by the French, to the Russian headquarters. But the main 
point is, that you arrive there sooner than Major Natzmer.” 

“ I will arrive there sooner. Your excellency knows that I 
have often been in Konigsberg and its surroundings ; I know 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


157 


all the by-ways and short cuts, and am, moreover, a good 
horseman.” 

“ I know all that. I presume, therefore, that you will be 
with Wittgenstein before Natzmer reaches him. But you will 
tell no one that it is I who sent you. It is your task to find 
means to speak to him alone. But wait — I will give you your 
credentials. Take this ring. General Wittgenstein knows 
it; he has often seen it on my finger, and he is familiar with 
my coat-of-arms. Send him this ring by his aide-de-camp, 
and he will admit you.” 

“ He will admit me, should I have to shoot down the 
sentinels.” 

“ As soon as you are face to face with the general, deliver to 
him this little note, which I have penned. Read it, and then 
I will direct and seal it.” He handed the paper to the young 
man. “ Read it aloud,” he said. 

“ In one or two hours Major Natzmer will arrive at the 
headquarters of your excellency, and beg leave to pass through 
the Russian camp in order to repair to General York. If your 
excellency should grant his request, and allow him to reach 
York’s headquarters, the hopes of Prussian patriots would be 
annihilated at one fell swoop. But if York remains at the 
head of his troops, so enthusiastically attached to him — if the 
whole nation and the whole corps may from this fact derive 
the hope that York acted in compliance with the secret in- 
structions of his king, then we may hope for a speedy change 
in our affairs. The fate and the future of Prussia therefore 
lie in the hands of noble General Wittgenstein.” 

“Now read over the letter twice for yourself,” said Harden - 
berg, “that you may engrave it on your memory. For in 
case you should happen to lose the letter, or if it should be 
stolen from you, you must verbally repeat its contents to 
Prince Wittgenstein.” 

“ I shall not lose it, and no one can steal it from me, for I 
shall carry it in my heart. I have nothing further to do 
than to deliver this letter to him?” 

“ You have to say yet to the general a few words which I 
dare not intrust to paper, but only to your memory. You 
will say to him: ‘Every thing is ready, and the period of 
procrastination and hesitation is drawing to a close. In a few 
days the king will leave Berlin, where he was in danger of 
being arrested by the French, and repair to Breslau. At 
Breslau he will issue a manifesto to his people and call them 


158 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


to arms.’ Hush, young man, hush! no joyous exclamations, 
no transports ! You must set out! It is high time ! Beware 
of the bullets of the French, and the thievish hands of the 
Russians! You must reach Wittgenstein sooner than Natz- 
mer does; do not forget that!” 

“I shall not. Farewell, your excellency!” 

“ Farewell, my young friend. For a week at least, then, I 
shall not see your dear face greeting me every morning in my 
cabinet. You must indemnify me for it.” 

“In what way, your excellency?” 

“You must embrace me, my young friend,” exclaimed 
Hardenberg, stretching out his arms toward the young 
man. 

“Oh, how kind, how generous you are!” exclaimed Rich- 
ard, encircling the minister with his arms, and then reveren- 
tially kissing his shoulders and his hands. 

“Now, your excellency,” he said, rising quickly, “now I 
am ready to brave all dangers. Farewell!” He waved his 
hand again to the minister, and left the room. 

“He will outstrip Natzmer,” said Hardenberg, gazing after 
him; “it is an arrow of love which I have discharged, and it 
will not miss its aim. And now let us see how it is about the 
other arrow of love, which mes chers amis mes ennem.is would 
like to discharge at me!” He rang the bell. Conrad, his 
faithful old footman, entered the room. 

“Has there no note come for me?” asked Hardenberg. 

“Yes, there has, your excellency,” said Conrad, in a low 
and anxious tone. “Two letters, your excellency.” 

“ Give them to me.” 

Conrad cast a searching glance over the room ; he then drew 
two tiny, neatly-folded letters from his bosom and handed 
them to the minister. “ She herself was here,” he whispered, 
“ and seemed very sad when I told her his excellency was not 
at home, and at first she refused to believe what I said. Only 
when I swore to her it was true, she gave me the first note. 
She returned afterward and brought the second letter.” 

“ But why do you tell me all this in so mysterious and 
timid a manner? Are you afraid lest some one has concealed 
himself, and plays the eavesdropper?” 

“Not that exactly, your excellency,” whispered Conrad; 
“but — the walls might have ears!” He pointed furtively at 
the ceiling of the room. 

“Ah, we are here under my wife’s bedroom,” said Harden- 


THE DIPLOMATIST. 


159 


berg, laughing. “ You are afraid lest she should be awake, 
and overhear our words through the floor of her room.” 

“ Madame von Hardenberg sees, hears, and divines every 
thing,” said Conrad, with an air of dismay. 

“ It is true,” muttered Hardenberg to himself, “ her jealousy 
gives her a thousand eyes, and the events of her own life have 
familiarized her with all sorts of cabals and intrigues. In this 
way she succeeded in becoming my wife and in bearing my 
name before the world. But, no matter ! I am not afraid of 
her Argus eyes, nor shall she prevent me from pursuing my 
own path, and adorning my dreary private life with a flower 
or two of pleasure.” 

“I believe and fear, your excellency,” whispered Conrad, 
“ Madame von Hardenberg has found out that the young lady 
was here, and that I received these letters from her.” 

“What makes you believe so?” 

“Madame von Hardenberg sent for me at eleven o’clock to* 
night, and asked me when your excellency would return, and 
whither you had gone. When I told her I could not inform 
her, because I did not know, she was pleased to box my ears 
and threaten that she would before long turn me out of the 
house.” 

“ These are, indeed, very valid reasons for your supposi- 
tions,” said Hardenberg, smiling. “But do not be alarmed. 
I know how to protect you from being turned out, and as to 
having your ears boxed, it is no insult, by the soft little hands 
of a lady. Any other news?” 

“ Yes, your excellency, the physician of the young lady was 
here at a late hour in the evening, in order to tell me that 
she had again fallen asleep, and, before doing so, had an- 
nounced she would be clairvoyant at eight o’clock in the 
morning.” 

“At eight o’clock!” exclaimed Hardenberg. “Do you 
hear, Conrad? — I must be there at- eight o’clock. That is to 
say, you must awaken me at seven o’clock.” 

“ But, your excellency, you will then have slept scarcely two 
hours,” said Conrad, sadly. 

“My old friend,” said Hardenberg, “shall we not have time 
enough for sleeping in our graves? Let us be awake here on 
earth as long as possible. You will awaken me^at seven 
o’clock. And now, come and assist me in retiring.” 

Fifteen minutes afterward Hardenberg was in bed. A neat 
little table, with a night-lamp burning on a golden plate, was 


160 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


standing at his bedside. Before falling asleep, the chancellor 
read the two notes which Conrad had delivered to him. 
“Protestations of love!” he whispered, smiling and folding 
them np. “ Protestations of love— that is to say, falsehoods. 
But I must confess that this arrow, which mes cliers amis mes 
ennemis have discharged at me, is at least very finely feathered 
and very attractive. At eight o’clock in the morning, then ! 
Well, I shall see whether I do not succeed in playing my hos- 
tile friends a little trick, and in returning the arrow to their 
own breast.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CLAIRVOYANTE. 

For some time past the inhabitants of Berlin had paid a 
great deal of attention to the doings of Doctor Binder, and 
told each other wonderful stories of the new medical system of 
this strange physician. Pie treated his patients in an entirely 
novel way, and performed his cures in a manner bordering 
strongly on the romantic and miraculous. He neither felt 
the pulse of his sick friends, nor did he examine their tongue ; 
he only gazed on them for a minute with his sombre, flaming 
eyes, and the patients then felt as if fascinated by them. 
Their pain ceased, their blood burned less ardently, and an 
indescribable feeling pervaded their body for a moment. 
When the doctor perceived this, he would raise both his hands, 
and with the palms softly and repeatedly stroke his subject’s 
face. Then the sufferer’s cheeks colored ; a wondrous, long- 
forgotten smile played round the lips which, for many months, 
had opened only to utter prayers, or sighs and complaints ; 
the dimmed eyes began to brighten, and fixed themselves with 
a radiant expression on the face of the doctor, whose stead- 
fast, piercing glances seemed to penetrate the sick one’s coun- 
tenance, and reach down into his soul, in order to divine, in 
its innermost recesses, his most secret feelings and thoughts. 
By and by a sweet peace pervaded the soul of the patient ; his 
aching limbs relaxed ; he folded his hands, which had hitherto 
jpoved convulsively and restively on the counterpane; the 
eyes, which had steadfastly rested on the face of the wonder- 
ful physician, closed gradually, and soon his long and regular 
breathings indicated that he had at length found the slumber 


THE CLAIRVOYANTE. 


161 


which, during his sickness, he had so long sought and yearned 
for. 

It is true, the patient awoke after a time, and his sufferings 
returned; the end of his slumber was often accompanied by 
painful convulsions, an indescribable feeling of depression, 
and the most profound sadness, but Dr. Binder was present; 
his eyes exorcised the patient’s pain, his hands quieted the 
quivering limbs, and chased away the tears, and the sufferer 
fell again into a sweet and refreshing slumber. This lulling 
the patient to sleep, this fascinating gaze, and laying on of 
hands, were the only medicines which the doctor adminis- 
tered, and by which he succeeded in freeing them from their 
sufferings* and diseases. People related the most wonderful 
cures which he had performed ; they spoke of persons who 
had been blind ever since their birth, and whom he had 
caused to see — of deaf-mutes, to whom lie had given the power 
of speech and hearing after a few days’ treatment — of lame 
men, who suddenly, after being touched by the doctor’s 
hands, had thrown away their crutches, and walked freely and 
easily. 

But the public’s attention was particularly riveted by the 
case of a young girl who had been for some time past under 
Dr. Binder’s treatment. She had come from a distant city 
to seek a cure at the hands of the famous physician and pupil 
of Mesmer. A bad cold had brought about a paralysis of all 
her limbs; she was unable to move her hands and feet, and 
had for months lain on her bed as motionless, rigid, and 
dumb, as a marble statue. Her parents had, in the anguish 
of their heart, at length applied to Dr. Binder. The doctor 
received her into his house. He publicly invited all the 
physicians of Berlin to visit his patient, to examine her con- 
dition, and to satisfy themselves of the efficacy of his cure. 
He also requested the public to watch the progress of it, and 
to come to his house at the hours when he lulled his patient 
to sleep. The physicians had disdainfully refused to have any 
thing to do with the “quack doctor,” who pretended to cure 
diseases without medicines; but the public, appeared the more 
eagerly. 

And this public enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing that the 
motionless form of the young girl, who at first had lain on 
the bed as rigid as stone, very slowly commenced to move. It 
was seen that, a few days afterward, she raised her right hand, 
and, shortly after, her right foot; gradually life and motion 


162 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


were restored to her limbs, and at length, at a truly solemn 
hour, the young girl, at the doctor’s loudly-uttered command, 
arose from her couch and paced the room with firm and steady 
steps. It is true she uttered a piercing cry, and fell at the 
feet of the doctor, her limbs quivering as though she were 
seized with convulsion, hut gradually she grew more quiet; a 
peaceful expression beamed from her features, and she com- 
menced talking in a tone of joyous enthusiasm. She spoke of 
the wonderful world on which she was gazing with her inward 
eyes, of the visions which burst on her soul, and her lips 
whispered strange prophecies. This condition of the patient 
repeatedly occurred every day, and with unfailing regularity 
followed every “crisis.” 

The young woman had become a clairvoyante ; and it was a 
truly wonderful fact that she, who, according to the state- 
ments of her relatives, had never cared for politics or public 
affairs, and to whom it was entirely indifferent whether Na- 
poleon or any other sovereign ruled Germany, suddenly, in 
her clairvoyant state, devoted her whole attention to political 
questions, and that she had, as it were, become a prophetess 
of the destinies of states. 

It was not very strange, therefore, that this phenomenon 
excited even the attention of statesmen, and that they too 
went to see the clairvoyante in her political ecstasy, and to put 
to her questions on public affairs, which she answered always 
with truly wonderful tact, and with the most profound in- 
sight into all such questions. 

Among those who took an interest in her was the chancellor 
of state, Minister von Hardenberg. Curiosity had at first 
induced him to call upon her; then her clever and piquant 
remarks struck him as something very strange, and at last he 
became a regular visitor. Of late, at his special request, the 
room of the patient, during her crises and clairvoyant trances, 
had been shut against all other visitors, and only the chancel- 
lor and the physician were present. 

The young woman, who, during her trances, regularly an- 
nounced at what hour of the following day she would relapse 
into this condition, had predicted that she would awake from 
her magnetic slumber at eight o’clock in the morning, and 
would then be in a state of clairvoyance. This hour had not 
yet arrived ; the clock which stood in her room on the bureau 
under the looking-glass indicated that about ten minutes 
were still wanting to the stated time. A profound silence 


THE CLAIR VOYANTE. 


163 


reigned in the room of the young patient. The physician 
sat reading on a high-backed chair at her bedside — his book 
contained the history and revelations of Swedenborg, the great 
Swedish ghost-seer. From time to time, however, he turned 
his large, flashing eyes toward the young woman, and seemed 
to watch her slumber with searching glances. 

The patient was motionless and rigid. A white, neat 
negligee enveloped her slender figure, which was stretched out 
on the bed without being covered with a counterpane. Her 
small, beautifully-shaped hands were folded on her breast, her 
head was thrown back sideways, and rested on a pillow of 
crimson velvet, which contrasted strangely with her pale face, 
and black hair, that overhung her marble cheeks in long 
tresses. The clock was striking eight. The doctor cast a 
quick glance on the patient, and then slowly closed his book. 
She began to stir and opened her lips, from which issued a 
long, painful sigh. At this moment there was heard the roll 
of a carriage on the street. The noise ceased, the carriage 
seemed to stop in front of the house. The clairvoyante shud- 
dered, and joy kindled her countenance. “He is coming! he 
is coming!” she said, in a deep, melodious voice. “ I see him 
ascending the staircase. He is pale and exhausted, and his 
eyes are dim, for he has slept but little. Government affairs 
have kept him awake. Oh, now I am well, for there he is!” 

In fact, the door softly opened, and the chancellor cau- 
tiously entered. By a quick wave of his hand, he ordered 
the doctor not to meet him, and then approached the bed 
softly and on tiptoe. 

The young woman did not change her position ; her eye- 
lashes did not quiver, nor did she open her eyes, and yet she 
seemed to see Hardenberg, for she said in a mournful and 
tremulous voice: “Well, doctor, was I not right? Just see 
how pale he looks, and how the sweet smile with which he 
formerly used to come to us is to-day very faintly playing 
round his lips like a little will-o’-the-wisp! But I told you 
already he has slept only two hours; he had to be so long 
minister of state as to find scarcely two hours’ rest for the 
poor, exhausted man.” 

The physician cast an inquiring glance on the chancellor. 
Hardenberg nodded smilingly. “You are right, Frederica,” 
he said. “ I was minister of state all day long yesterday.” 

“No, no,” she exclaimed, “not all the day. At the com- 
mencement of Marshal Augereau’s supper you were merry, 


164 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and succeeded in forgetting your onerous business; and had 
not the secretary of Count St. Marsan made his appearance 
and brought the dispatches, you would have finished your 
pheasant’s wing with good appetite and in the best of 
spirits.” 

The minister’s face assumed an air of astonishment, and 
almost of terror. “Ah,” he said, “it seems you were present 
at that supper?” 

“ Certainly I was, for my soul is accompanying you all the 
time, and my soul is the eye of my body. I see all you do, 
and know all your thoughts.” 

“Well, then,” said Hardenberg, smiling, “tell me what 
you saw last night. Look backward, Frederica, and tell me 
where I was, and what I did.” 

“Then you doubt my words?” she asked, reproachfully. 
“You want to see whether I am able to tell you the truth? 
You know that it makes my eyes ache to look backward, and 
that my spirit soars with easier flight into the future than the 
past!” 

“Do so nevertheless, Frederica,” said Hardenberg, imperi- 
ously. “I wish you to do so!” He laid his hand upon her 
arm, and the contact made her start as an electric shock. 

“I will obey,” she whispered, in an humble tone. “I see 
you sitting at the table of Marshal Augereau. You are in 
excellent spirits; you are just telling the marshal that the 
betrothed of the crown prince with a princess of the house of 
Napoleon will take place before long; Count Narbonne is 
complaining of the political conversations with which you 
are spicing the supper in too piquant a manner; dispatches 
arrive and disturb your mirth.” 

“From whom do these dispatches come?” asked Harden- 
berg. . 

“From Marshal Macdonald, who addressed them to the 
French ambassador, Count St. Marsan.” 

“ Do you know their contents?” 

“ I am reading them. There is, in the first place, a letter 
from General York — ” 

“Hush!” interrupted Hardenberg; “we will speak of that 
hereafter; do not allude to it now. Tell me what else I did 
last night.” 

“After reading the dispatches, you hastened to the king to 
inform him of the dreadful news. Scarcely had you been 
with him for a few minutes, when a courier from General 


THE CLAIRVOYANTE. 


165 


York arrived and delivered dispatches concerning the same 
subject to which the others had referred. After a protracted 
interview with the king, you went to the French ambassador, 
and informed him of the sentiments and resolutions of his 
majesty. The count declared himself satisfied with what you 
told him, and you then hastened hack to the king. You 
there met Major Natzmer, whom the king intended to dis- 
patch as a courier to Murat and General York. You entered 
the king’s room and had another protracted interview with 
him. Thereupon you returned to your residence.” 

“ With whom did I speak there first of all?” 

The clairvoyante was silent for a moment. “ I do not see 
it,” she said, “ the night is so dark.” 

“ Open your eyes until you see!” 

“Ah, I see now!” she exclaimed. “Your excellency spoke 
with old Conrad. He accompanied you to your bedroom and 
handed you two letters.” 

“She is right,” muttered the chancellor, loudly enough to 
he heard by the young woman and the physician. “ Yes, she 
is right; it is all precisely as she says.” He then asked 
aloud : “ Did I speak with any one else than Conrad?” 

“No,” she said; “I do not see anybody else. Conrad told 
you that I would open the eyes of my soul and see at eight 
o’clock this morning. You ordered him to awaken you at 
seven o’clock, and went to bed.” 

“What did I do before falling asleep?” 

“You read the two little notes,” she said, with a coy smile. 

The chancellor turned his eyes toward the physician, who 
witnessed this scene in silent and solemn earnestness. “ Doc- 
tor Binder,” he said, “all that this young lady told me just 
now is strictly true. All my doubts are henceforth dispelled, 
and from this hour I am one of the believers. No; I say this 
is no deception, no imposition ; it is a mystery of nature, which 
I am unable to explain, but in which I am compelled to be- 
lieve. It is given to this young lady to look with the eyes of 
her soul into the past, as well as into the future, and to per- 
ceive and penetrate the most secret things. I believe in her, 
and shall henceforth allow myself to be directed and in- 
structed by her revelations. I thank you for having brought 
this wonderful girl to my notice, and you may always count 
on my heart-felt gratitude.” 

“ Belief in the high art of my science and doctrines is the 
only gratitude I am yearning for, and my only desire is not 


1GG 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


to be prevented from healing poor patients and making suffer- 
ing humanity happy by my holy science.” 

“ No one shall be allowed to prevent you from doing so as 
long as / am minister, I pledge you my word,” said Harden- 
berg, gravely. “ Take heart, therefore, and do not be afraid. 
I am your disciple, and at the same time your protector. But 
now grant me a request: I should like to put to our charm- 
ing seer yet a few questions in regard to last night’s events. 
She shall, in her inspired and prophetic prescience, give me 
her advice and tell me what course I must pursue ; but, in 
doing so, I shall have to allude to state secrets, and to speak 
of affairs which no one is allowed to know but the king and 
his ministers, and — ” 

“ I pray your excellency to permit me to leave you alone with 
our young seer,” interrupted Doctor Binder, with a polite 
smile. “I have to see several patients, and my presence is 
required at the ‘Hall of Crises ’ below, for nry two young 
assistants are scarcely able to restrain our female patients 
when the crisis sets in.” 

“Go, then, to your patients,” said Hardenberg; “I shall 
stay here with our clairvoyante until she awakes.” 

“If } r our excellency needs any thing,” said the doctor, ap- 
proaching the door, “ it will only be necessary for you to 
ring the bell; the nurse is in the reception-room, and will 
immediately call my assistants.” 

He bowed to Hardenberg, bent once more with a searching 
glance over the couch of his patient, drew with his hands a 
few circles over her head, and left the room with noiseless 
steps. The chancellor and the clairvoyante were alone. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

AN" ADVENTURESS. 

When the physician left the room, the chancellor returned 
to the bedside of the young woman; her position was the 
same, and her eyes were still closed. She did not see, there- 
fore, the sarcastic smile with which Hardenberg looked down 
upon her, or the proud, triumphant expression that was beam- 
ing from his eyes. Hers were closed, and, notwithstanding 
her clairvoyance, she saw nothing, nor did Hardenberg’s voice 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


167 


betray to her aught of the expression of his countenance or the 
character of his thoughts. 

“Frederica,” he said, in his soft, gentle voice, “speak to 
me now, my seer; be my prophetess now, and let me see the 
future. Tell me what I must do in order to reconcile all 
these dissensions, and harmonize all these clashing interests. 
On which side is justice, prosperity, and peace?” 

“ On the side of the great man whose gigantic strength has 
lifted the world out of its hinges, and given it a new aspect,” 
she said, gravely. “Stand faithfully by the alliance with 
France, unless you wish the crown to fall from the head of 
your king, and Prussia to be divided into two provinces, one 
annexed to the kingdom of Westphalia, and the other to the 
duchy of Warsaw.” 

“But will France then still have power to do so?” asked 
Ilardenberg ; “ is not France herself on the brink of the abyss 
into which she has hurled all states, princes, and crowns?”" 

“France is as powerful to-day as she ever was,” responded 
the seer. “ New armies at the beck of Napoleon will spring 
from the ground, his military chests will be filled with new 
millions, and the invincible chieftain will lead his legions to 
new victories. Woe then to Prussia if she proves faithless — 
woe to her, if, in insensate infatuation, she turns her back 
upon France, and allows herself to listen to the insinuations 
and promises by which Russia is trying to gain her over to her 
side ! Russia herself is weak and exhausted ; she will be un- 
able to alford Prussia any adequate support. Be on your 
guard! Russia has always been a perfidious ally; she has 
always crushed the hand of her allies in her grasp, while seem- 
ingly giving a pledge of her good faith. France alone is 
offering to Prussia substantial guaranties of peace; Napoleon 
alone must remain the protector of Prussia. Banish, there- 
fore, the insidious thoughts that are troubling your soul; try 
no longer to dissuade the king from adhering to the alliance. 
Do not try to persuade him to approve York’s defection ! He 
is a traitor, whose head must fall ; for such is the decree of 
the laws of war. To approve his defection is to throw down 
the gauntlet to France, and annihilate Prussia!” 

“You have played your part to perfection!” exclaimed 
Hardenberg, laughing. “ Please accept my sincere congratu- 
lations, my dear child ; the greatest actress in the world could 
not perform her role any better than you have done to-day, 
and ever since I became acquainted with you.” 


168 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


At the first words of the chancellor, the clairvoyante gave a 
violent start; a tremor pervaded her whole frame, and a deep 
blush suffused her cheeks for a moment; but all this quickly 
passed away, and now she was again as rigid and motionless 
as she was before. 

Hardenberg’s eyes were fixed on her. “ You do not desire 
to understand me, Frederica,” he said. “Well, then, I will 
speak somewhat more lucidly. Will you permit me to ask 
two additional questions?” 

“You know very well that I must reply when your soul 
commands me to do so,” said the young woman, in a perfectly 
calm voice, “for your soul has power over mine, and I must 
obey it.” 

“ Well, then — my first question : did I really, last night, on 
returning to my residence, speak with no one but old Conrad? 
Was no one but he in my room until I went to bed? Look 
sharp, open the eyes of your soul as wide as you can, and then 
reply!” 

“I see,” she said, after a pause; “but I see that you were 
alone with Conrad, and with the thoughts of a lady who loves 
you.” 

“I am very glad that you tell me so,” said Hardenberg, 
calmly, “ for I understand from it that my enemies, who are 
furnishing you with correct reports as to all my doings, have 
yet remained ignorant of an affair in which I was engaged last 
night. For there really was another person with me, and 
your patrons would give a great deal to find out what instruc- 
tions I gave to that person. Now, as to my second question; 
but I hope you hear my words, ma toute belle, and have not 
yet passed from an unnatural sleep into a natural one!” 

“ I hear you, and I am ready to answer if your soul com- 
mands me.” 

“Well, then,” said Hardenberg, bending over her, and fix- 
ing his piercing eyes upon her countenance, “my question is 
this : How much do your protectors give you for playing the 
part which you performed before me?” 

A pause ensued. Suddenly the clairvoyante opened her 
eyes, gazing with an indescribable expression on the face of 
the minister still bending over her. 

“They give me nothing, ”she said, in a firm, sonorous voice, 
“but the hope of acquiring a brilliant position in the future.” 

“You confess, then, that you have played a considerable 
farce?” asked Chancellor von Hardenberg, smiling. 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


169 


“ I confess that I have played my part very badly, and that 
your eagle eye is able to penetrate every thing. I confess 
that I adore you for having unmasked me,” she exclaimed, 
quickly encircling Hardenberg’s neck with her arms, drawing 
his head down to her, and pressing a glowing kiss on his 
lips. Then, still keeping her arms around his neck, she 
raised herself from the couch, and leaned for a moment 
against the manly form of the chancellor. 

Disengaging herself from him, she jumped from the bed to 
the floor, and, spreading out her arms, and throwing back her 
head, she exclaimed in a jubilant voice: “I am free! I need 
no longer play my irksome role! Oh, I am free!” 

Leaping into the middle of the room, as light-footed as a 
sylph, and fascinating as one of the graces, she began to 
dance, raising her feet and moving her arms in a slow, meas- 
ured manner, at the outset; but, turning more rapidly, with 
more passionate movement and increasing ardor, her counte- 
nance grew more glowing and animated. Her large black 
eyes flashed fire — an air of wild, bacchantic ecstasy pervaded 
her whole appearance, her cheeks were burning, her beautiful 
red lips were half opened, and revealed her ivory teeth, and 
her uplifted arms (from which the wide sleeves of her negligee 
had fallen back to the shoulders) were of the most charming 
contour. Concluding her dance, she glided breathless and 
with panting bosom toward Hardenberg, who had sunk into 
the easy-chair, and was looking on with wondering eyes. 
Bursting into loud, melodious laughter, she sat at his feet, 
and, pressing her glowing face against his knees, looked 
searchingly and suppliantly into his eyes. 

“You are angry with me,” she said; “oh, pardon me, but 
I had first to give vent to my exultation. Now I will be 
quite sensible.” 

“And what do you call sensible, then?” asked Hardenberg, 
who, under the power of the woman’s glances, vainly tried to 
impart to his countenance an air of gravity and sternness. 

“ I call it sensible to reply honestly to the questions your 
excellency will put to me now,” she said, in a caressing tone. 

“Well, then, let us see whether you are really sensible or 
not,” said Hardenberg. “In the first place, please rise.” 

She shook her head slowly. “ No,” she said* “ I will remain 
at your feet until you have heard my confession and granted 
me absolution.” 

“And suppose I refuse to grant you absolution?” 

12 


170 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Then I shall die at your feet!” 

“Ah, it is not so easy to die.” 

“ It L easy to die when one wants to, and has such a friend 
as this is,” she exclaimed, drawing from her hair one of the 
two long silver pins with which her heavy black tresses were 
partially fastened. 

“Strange girl!” murmured Hardenberg, surprised, while 
she was looking up to him with radiant eyes, and a smile 
playing on her lips. 

“ Will you ask me now?” she then said, gently and almost 
humbly. “ I am lying here at your feet as if you were my 
confessor, and I am longing with trembling impatience for 
my absolution.” 

“Well, then, tell me, in the first place, who you are.” 

“Who am I?” she asked. “A cheat, who, by intrigues, 
cabals, and cunning, tried to attain the object she yearned 
for so intensely, namely, to lie at the feet of a noble and 
eminent man, as she is doing now, and to tell him that she 
loves him. Who am I? An adventuress, who has gone out 
into the world to seek her fortune; to play, if possible, a 
prominent part; to acquire a distinguished name, and to ob- 
tain riches, power, and influence. Who am I? A diver, who 
has plunged with reckless audacity into the foaming sea, to 
find at its bottom either pearls or a grave.” 

“ But, my child,” said Hardenberg, “ do you not know that 
the divers, when plunging into the sea to seek pearls, always 
gird a safety-rope around their waist for the purpose of being 
drawn to the surface whenever they are in danger of 
drowning?” 

“ The man who loves me will be my safety-rope and draw 
me up,” she said, gravely. 

Hardenberg laughed. “ In truth,” he said, “ I must admire 
your sincerity and naivete. You must be very courageous to 
utter such truths about yourself.” 

“ Certainly, it would have been easier to play the virtuous, 
forsaken, and unfortunate girl,” she said, with a contemptuous 
smile. “ It would have been less troublesome to throw myself 
at your feet, bathed in a flood of tears, and to say, ‘Oh, have 
mercy upon me! Free me from this unworthy role which has 
been forced upon me! Save me from the torture of being 
compelled to dissimulate, to lie, and to cheat. Virtue dwells 
in my heart, innocence and truth are upon my lips. I have 
been forced to play a part that dishonors me. Have mercy 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


171 


upon me, save me from the snares threatening me!”’ While 
saying so, she imparted to her features precisely the expression 
that was adapted to her words ; she had spoken in a tremulous, 
suppliant voice, with folded hands and tearful eyes. 

“ Poor child,” exclaimed Hardenberg, surprised, “you weep, 
you are deeply moved! Ah, now at last you show me your 
true face, now you cause me to see the poor, innocent, and 
unfortunate child that you really are!” 

She shook away her tears and burst into laughter. “No,” 
she exclaimed, “ I have only proved to you that I would be 
able to play the virtuous and innocent girl to perfection, and 
that I might, perhaps, thereby succeed in touching your noble 
heart. But you have commanded me to tell you the truth, 
and I have pledged you my word to do so. I tell you, then, 

I am no persecuted, virtuous girl, no innocent angel; I am a 
woman, carrying a heaven and a hell in her bosom; I can be 
an angel, if happiness and love favor me; I will be a demon, 
if fate be hostile to me. Yes,” she exclaimed, jumping up 
and pacing the room in great agitation, “ there are hours and 
days when I myself believe that I am a demon, an angel hurled 
down from heaven, and doomed to walk the earth on account 
of some crime. There are hours when heavenly recollections 
fill my imagination, when an indescribable, blissful yearning 
is, as it were, enveloping me in a veil — when there are re- 
sounding in my heart the sweetest and most enchanting notes 
of sacred words and devout prayers, and when it seems to me 
as though I were sitting in the midst of radiant angels, sur- 
rounded by luminous clouds, at the feet of God, His breath 
upon my cheek, and looking down with compassionate, merci- 
ful love upon the world, lying at an unfathomable distance 
under my feet. And then I say to myself: ‘You have re- 
viled and slandered yourself ; you are, after all, a good angel ; 
God is with you, and prayer, love, and innocence, are in your 
heart.’ Then it suddenly seems to me as if my heart were 
rent, and I heard loud, scornful laughter. I fall from my 
heaven ; I look around and behold men, with their bitter- 
sweet faces, smiling on, and lying to each other; I see all * 
their duplicity and their infamy ; I laugh at my own trans- 
ports and swear never to be human with humanity, hut a 
demon with demons — to cheat as they cheat, to lie, and win 
from them as much happiness, honor, and wealth, as I can 
with some mimic talent, a cool and sharp mind, a pretty 
figure, and an ugly face.” 


172 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Ah, you are slandering yourself,” exclaimed Hardenberg, 
smiling. “ You have no ugly face.” 

She hastened to the looking-glass, and gazed on herself with 
searching glances. “ Yes,” she said, “ I am really ugly. My 
mouth is too large, my lips too full, my face is angular and 
by no means prepossessing, my nose is vulgar, my forehead 
too low and too wide, these bushy eyebrows become rather 
a grenadier than a young lady, and these large black eyes look 
like a couple of sentinels, which, with sharp glances, have to 
watch the rabble of nose, mouth, ear, and cheek, lest one 
should try to escape from disgust at the ugliness of the others. 
But I do not regret my want of beauty, for it is uncommon 
and piquant, and I can imagine that a gifted, eminent man, 
who is tired of the pretty faces of so-called virtuous women, 
may feel attracted by my ugliness. Beauty at least always 
becomes tiresome, for it treats you at once to all that it is and 
has, but ugliness excites your curiosity more and more from 
day to day, for, at certain moments, it may be transformed 
into beauty!” 

“Your own case shows that,” said Hardenberg, “for, 
although you call yourself ugly, there is a fascinating beauty 
in your whole appearance.” 

She gazed on him with a long and radiant look. “ You are 
a great man, a genius, and you are, therefore, able to under- 
stand me. I will tell you my history now, that you may at 
last grant me the blessing of your forgiveness.” 

“Well, tell me your history,” exclaimed Hardenberg. 
“ Come, Frederica, sit down by my side here on the couch 
on which you have so often reposed as a modern Pythia, and 
proclaimed to me the oracles which your mysterious priest had 
whispered to you. Now you are no priestess uttering equivocal 
wisdom, but a young woman telling the truth, and making me 
listen to the revelations of her heart.” 

“A young woman,” she repeated, sighing.and reclining on 
the bed close to the easy-chair on which Hardenberg was sitting. 
“Am I young, then? It seems to me sometimes as though 
I were old — so old as no longer to have any illusions, any hopes 
or wishes; as though I were the ‘Wandering Jew’ who has 
been travelling through the world so many centuries, seeking 
perpetually for the rest which he can nowhere find. But still 
you are right; I am young, for I am only twenty years old.” 

“ And who are your parents? Where do they live?” 

“Who are my parents?” she asked, laughing. “ My father 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


173 


was a Holy man, a high-priest in the temple of Time. It de- 
pended on him when men were to awake or sleep, eat or work. 
It was his will that regulated rendezvous and weddings, par- 
ties and arrests, and he had no other master than the sun. 
He allowed the sun alone to guide him, and still he was no 
Persian !” 

“ But he was a watchmaker?” asked Hardenberg, smiling. 

“ Yes, he was a watchmaker, and, thanks to him, the whole 
town where he lived knew exactly what time it was. Only my 
mother did not know it. She believed herself to he a great 
lady, although she was only a poor watchmaker’s wife, but 
was unable to efface the recollections of her youth. She was 
the daughter of a French marquis, who, after gambling away 
his whole fortune at the court of Louis XV., had emigrated 
with his young wife and daughter to Berlin, in order to seek 
another fortune at the court of Frederick the Great. But 
Frederick the Great had already become somewhat distrustful 
of the roving marquises and counts whom France sent to Ber- 
lin. Marquis de Barbasson, my worthy grandfather, received, 
therefore, no office and no money, and a time of distress set 
in, such as he would previously have deemed utterly unlikely 
to befall the descendant of his ancestors. He left Berlin with 
his family, to make his living somewhere else as a teacher of 
languages. He travelled from one place to another, and ar- 
rived at length at a small town called New Brandenburg. 
There he remained, for his feet were weary, and his poor wife 
was sick and tired of life. Well, Madame la Marquise de 
Barbasson died, and the marquis taught the young ladies of 
New Brandenburg how to conjugate avoir and etre; his 
daughter assisted him, and, as she was very pretty, she taught 
many a young man how to conjugate aimer. But who would 
have thought of marrying the daughter of a French adventurer, 
who, it is true, styled himself marquis, but was as poor as a 
beggar! He was unable long to bear the privations and 
humiliations of his life; he fled from his creditors, and per- 
haps also from his remorse, by committing suicide; and his 
daughter, who was twenty years of age at that time, remained 
alone, and without any other inheritance than the debts of 
her father. One of the principal creditors of the marquis was 
the proprietor of the house in which father and daughter had 
lived for three years without paying rent, or refunding the 
small sums he had lent to them. This proprietor was a 
young watchmaker, named Hahn, an excellent young man, 


174 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER.- 


who had given the family of the French marquis not only his 
money, but his heart. He loved the young Marquise de 
Barbasson, unfortunate, or, if you prefer, fortunate man ! for 
his courtship was successful. Now, after the death of the old 
marquis, he played the part of an importunate creditor, and 
told her she had the alternative of paying or marrying him. 
The young Marquise de Barbasson married him, and then 
paid the poor watchmaker in a manner which was not very 
pleasant to him. She never forgave hirn for having reduced 
her to the humble position of a watchmaker’s wife, and 
found it disgusting to be obliged to call herself Hahn, after 
having so long borne the aristocratic name of Barbasson. How- 
ever that might be, she was his wife, and I have the honor 
to represent in my humble person the legitimate daughter of 
Hahn, the watchmaker, and the Marquise de Barbasson.” 

“ And I must confess that you are representing your mother 
and your father in a highly becoming manner,” said Harden- 
berg. “ You have the bearing and the savoir vivre of a French 
marquise, and from your oracular sayings I have seen that you 
are as familiar with the time as a watchmaker is. But I can 
imagine that the descent of your parents produced many a 
discord in your life.” 

“Say rather that my whole life was a discord,” she ex- 
claimed, vehemently, “ and that I have lived in an unending 
conflict between my head and my heart, my reality and my 
imagination. Oh, how often, when lying in dreary lone- 
liness, in the shade of an oak on the shore of the charm- 
ing lake near the small town in which we lived — how 
often did I utter loud cries of anguish, and say to the 
billows that washed the shore with a low, murmuring sound : 
‘I am a French marquise; there is aristocratic blood in my 
veins; it is my vocation to shine at the courts of kings, and 
to see counts and princes at my feet!’ Yet none but the 
waves of the lake believed my words; men treated me never 
as a Marquise de Barbasson, but only as little Frederica Hahn, 
daughter of a poor watchmaker. I felt this as a personal in- 
sult, and at many a bitter hour it seemed to me as though, 
like my mother, I hated my poor father because he had robbed 
us of our brilliant name and our nobility. My father bore 
my whims patiently, for he loved me, and I believe he loved 
nothing on earth better than his daughter. He saw that I 
was pining away in the wearisome loneliness of our dull life ; 
he knew that ambition was burning in my heart like a torrent 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


175 


of fire, and he wept with me and begged my pardon for being 
a poor watchmaker, and no nobleman. He did all he could 
to make amends for this wrong ; he treated me not as his 
daughter, but as his superior; and, although we were scarcely 
in easy circumstances, he surrounded pie with all comforts 
becoming an aristocratic young lady. I had my servants, my 
own room, a tolerably fashionable toilet, a piano, a small 
library; and my father was proud of being able to have me 
instructed by the best and most expensive teachers, and of 
hearing that I was their most industrious and talented pupil. 
But what good did all this do me? I remained what I was — 
Frederica Hahn, the watchmaker’s daughter — and the blood 
of the Barbassons revolted against my position in life; and 
the marquises and viscounts, my distinguished ancestors, ap- 
peared to my inward eye, and seemed to beckon me and call 
me to the proud castles which had formerly belonged to our 
family. But how should I get thither? — how escape from my 
small native town? — how rid myself of the burden of my 
name and my birth ? That was the question which put my 
brain night and day on the rack, and to which my intellect 
was unable to make a satisfactory reply. An accident, how- 
ever, came to my assistance.” 

“ Ah, in truth, I am anxious to hear this,” exclaimed Har- 
denberg, “for I am listening to you in breathless suspense, 
and am as eager to learn the conclusion of your history as 
though it were the denouement of a drama. An accident, 
then, furnished you with a reply, my beautiful Marquise de 
Barbasson?” 

“ Yes, your excellency, and never shall I forget the day and 
the hour. It was on a beautiful day last autumn. As I was 
in the habit of doing every day, I had gone with my book 
into the forest on the shore of the lake. I lay in my favorite 
place under a large oak, in the dark foliage of which the birds 
were singing, while the waves of the lake at my feet were a 
sweet accompaniment. I was reading the lately published 
poetry of my favorite bard, Goethe, and had just finished 
‘The Wandering Fool.’ This poem struck my heart as light- 
ning. I dropped the book, looked up to the clouds and 
shouted to them: ‘What are you but wandering fools! Oh, 
take me with you!’ But the clouds did not reply to me; 
they passed on in silence, and my sad eyes turned to the lake 
extended before me like a polished mirror, and mingling with 
the blue mists of the horizon, and I said to the murmuring 


176 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


waves, as I had said to the clouds: ‘Take me with you, wan- 
dering fools! I am suffocating in my captivity! I must 
leave this small town; it is a prison — an open grave!’ At 
this moment, the oak above me shook its foliage; a wind 
drove the waves faster, until they broke on the shore ; and a 
sheet of paper, which some wanderer might have lost, was 
blown toward me. I took it, and suddenly the wind was 
silent as though it had accomplished its mission; the oak 
stirred no more, the lake was tranquil, and even the clouds 
seemed to pause and look on while I unfolded and read the 
paper.” 

“ Oh, I imagine what it was! exclaimed Hardenberg. “ A 
love-letter from one of your admirers, who knew that the 
beautiful nymph of the lake had selected that spot for her 
sanctuary.” 

“Ah, you do not imagine very well, your excellency. It 
was no love-letter, but a newspaper! It was a copy of your 
dear, venerable Vossische Zeitung * I read it at first very 
carelessly, but suddenly I noticed an article from Berlin, 
which excited my liveliest attention. It alluded to the strange 
cures performed by Doctor Binder, a magnetizer. It related 
that many sufferers came to Berlin from distant cities to be 
cured by the doctor, whose whole treatment consisted of lay- 
ing his hands and fixing his eyes on his patients. It dwelt 
especially upon the adventures of a young woman whose 
strange disease had riveted the attention of all Berlin, and 
who, in consequence of the doctor’s treatment, had become a 
clairvoyante. It said that the truly wonderful sayings and pre- 
dictions of the young woman were creating the greatest sensa- 
tion, and that even ministers and distinguished functionaries 
were visiting Doctor Binder’s ‘Hall of Crises,’ in order to lis- 
ten and put questions to the clairvoyante.” 

“Ah, that was little Henrietta Meyer, who died a few 
months ago,” said Hardenberg. 

“ Yes, she was so accommodating as to die and make room 
for me,” exclaimed Frederica, smiling. “When I had read 
this article about her, it seemed to me as though a veil dropped 
from my eyes, and I were only now able to descry my future 
distinctly. I jumped up and uttered a single loud cry that 
sped over the lake like a storm -bird, and was repeated many 
times by the distant echo. Thereupon I ran back to town, as 
if carried on the wings of the wind. The men on the streets, 

* The Vossische Zeitung, one of the oldest Berlin newspapers, is still published. 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


177 


who saw me running past, gazed wonderingly after me. 
Some of them hailed and tried to speak to me, but I took no 
notice of them, ran on, reached at last the humble dwelling 
of my parents, and there I fell panting and senseless. They 
lifted me up, and carried me to my bed. I lay on it motion- 
less, and with dilated eyes. No one knew my thoughts, or 
heard the voices whispering in my breast and ominously laugh- 
ing. I stared upward, and matured my plan of operations. 
My poor father sat all night long at my bedside, weeping and 
imploring me to look at him, and tell him only by a single 
word, a single syllable, that I recognized him. My tongue 
remained silent, but my eyes were able to glance at and greet 
the poor man. But why tell you all the particulars of my 
wonderful disease? In short, all my limbs were paralyzed, 
and even my mind seemed affected and confused. I could eat 
and sleep, but I was unable to rise, and could not utter a 
word. The physicians of our small town tried all the reme- 
dies of their science to cure me. In vain! I remained 
dumb. Only once, four weeks afterward, I recovered the 
power of speech. It was in the night-time, and no one was 
with me but my poor father, who passed nearly every night at 
my bedside, always hoping for a moment when I might get 
better — when the spell would leave my tongue, and the power 
of speech be restored. This moment had come now ; I inti- 
mated it to my father with my eyes, stared at him, and said in 
a slow and solemn voice, ‘Doctor Binder, at Berlin, is alone 
able to cure me!’ ” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Hardenberg, drawing a deep breath, “I 
give you permission to laugh at me. I was just as foolish as 
your father was. Up to this time I believed in the reality of 
your sickness, and felt quite anxious and alarmed. The words 
you uttered during that night quiet me again, and illuminate 
the gloom, like a welcome miner’s lamp in a deep shaft. I 
hope, however, that they did not exert the same effect upon 
your father.” 

“ No, your excellency, fortunately they did not, and the 
proof of it is that I rode, a week afterward — in a comfortable 
carriage, and accompanied by my father — to Berlin, to place 
myself under the treatment of Doctor Binder.” 

“ Did the doctor promise to cure you?” 

“ He gave me hopes at least that he would be able to do so, 
and, after accepting three months’ pay in advance, received 
me into his house, and the cure commenced. I willingly sub- 


178 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


mitted to his piercing glances and to his laying-on of hands. 
1 was so obliging as to fall asleep, and scarcely three days 
elapsed when I began already to become slightly clairvoyant. 
The doctor was himself surprised at the rapid effect of his 
cure; he informed some of his distinguished patrons of the 
presence of a new clairvoyante at his house, and invited them 
to witness my next awakening. Among these patrons were 
some influential courtiers, Prince Hatzfeld and Field-Marshal 
Kalkreuth. I had been told that these gentlemen were the 
most zealous adherents of the French alliance, and the most 
ardent admirers of Napoleon. It was but natural, there- 
fore, that when I became clairvoyant on that day, in the 
presence of these gentlemen, I was the enraptured prophetess 
of a golden future for Prussia, provided we maintained the 
alliance with France. The two courtiers were visibly 7- sur- 
prised and delighted at my prophecies; and when the doctor 
had left the room for a moment, I heard Prince Hatzfeld say 
to Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, ‘Ah, I wish Hardenberg were 
here, and heard the predictions of this wonderful girl! He 
believes in clairvoyance, and her words, therefore, would 
make a profound impression upon him !’ ‘We must try to have 
him brought hither,’ said Field-Marshal Kalkreuth; ‘we 
must try to influence the stubborn fellow in this way.’ ” 

“That was a very clever idea,” said Hardenberg, smiling; 
“ I almost envy those gentlemen their very pretty intrigue. 
They then made offers to you, did they not?” 

“No, I made offers to them.” 

“ How so?” 

“ Listen to me. When the gentlemen left, and I was again 
alone with the doctor, I suddenly awoke from my trance; 
rising from my couch, I stepped up to him, and made him a 
respectful obeisance. He looked at me in dismay, and seemed 
paralyzed with stupefaction, for you know all my limbs were 
palsied, and I could only move my tongue. ‘My dear doc- 
tor,’ I said, very calmly, ‘I hope I have proved to you now 
that I am possessed of considerable talent as an actress, and 
that I am as well versed in playing my part as you are in 
yours. Both of us try to obtain fame and wealth, you as a 
magnetizer, I as a clairvoyante, and we stand mutually in 
need of each other. You are the stage-manager, and possessed 
of a theatre that suits me, and I am the leading actress, with- 
out whom you would be unable to perform your play in a 
satisfactory manner. Let us, therefore, come to an under- 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


179 


standing and make an agreement. ’ Eli bien , your excellency, 
we did come to an understanding; we did make an agreement. 
With a view to a better position that soon would be accessible 
to me, I remained temporarily the first actress, and, thanks to 
my performances, I attracted an audience as distinguished as 
it was munificent.” 

“ Now I comprehend every thing. You must permit me, 
however, another question. Are Prince Hatzfeld and Field- 
Marshal Kalkreuth aware that you are nothing but an — 
actress?” 

By no means, your excellency. They are so kind as to 
take me for a bona fide clairvoyante. The doctor told them 
that, by my spiritual connection with him, I was compelled 
to say, think, and do whatever he wanted and commanded 
me, and that, if he gave me my instructions while I was 
awake, I had to act and speak in. my clairvoyant state in 
strict accordance with them. In this way it happened, your 
excellency, that I was used as the fox-tail with which the elec- 
trical machine is set in motion — to make an impression upon 
you, and to cure you of your hostility to France. The doctor 
became the confidant of these gentlemen, who desired to cure 
you. They surrounded your excellency with spies, a minute 
diary was kept of your movements, and this diary was brought 
early every morning to the doctor, who read it to me, and we 
agreed then as to the manner in which I should avail myself 
of the information.” 

“ And dupe me !” exclaimed Hardenberg, laughing. “ For- 
tunately, I did not allow myself to be thus dealt with, but 
penetrated the handsome little swindle at the outset; yet 
I made up my mind to continue playing the farce for some 
time, because it afforded me an opportunity to discover and 
foil the intentions, wishes, and schemes of my adversaries. 
But tell me now, my pretty young lady, what would have 
happened if I had not allowed you to perceive to-day that I 
was aware of the whole trick?” 

“ In that ease l myself would have disclosed the intrigue to 
your excellency. Did I not send my young nurse twice to 
your house yesterday, in order to pray you to come to me, if 
possible, last night, because I had important news to com- 
municate to you? Did I not write to you that the doctor 
would not be at home during the whole evening, and that I 
might, therefore, communicate an important secret to you 
without being disturbed?” 


180 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Unfortunately, I was not at home, and the supper at 
Marshal Augereau’s, which you used so skilfully during your 
pretended trance, deprived me of an hour of important dis- 
closures! But suppose I had come, and met you alone; what 
would you have told me then?” 

“ Precisely what I tell you now. I would have fallen down 
before you as I do now, and, clasping your knees in this man- 
ner, would have said what I say now: ‘Mercy, my lord and 
master, mercy! I can lie and dissimulate no longer before 
your noble face ; your eyes embarrass me ; your smile over- 
whelms me with shame; the farce is at an end, and the truth 
commences. The truth, however, is that I adore you; that I 
will no longer unite with your adversaries against you ; that I 
will serve you and none but you, and devote to you my whole 
life and every pulsation of my heart!’” She attempted to 
conceal her face, bathed in a flood of tears ; but Hardenberg 
softly laid his hands upon her cheeks, and, gently raising her 
head, gazed at her long and smilingly. 

“What talent!” he said; “in truth, I admire you! It was 
a charming performance. True love and passion could ex- 
press themselves no better, or surpass your imitation.” 

She arose from her knees and looked at him with eyes flash- 
ing with anger. “ You do not believe me?” she asked, almost 
menacingly. “ You suspect me, although I have revealed my 
heart to you as sincerely as I have ever revealed it to Heaven 
itself.” 

“ Foolish girl, how can I believe you?” he asked. “Have 
you not gone out into the world to plunge into adventures, 
and to seek your fortune? Have you not dived into the sea 
to find pearls? Can you wish me to play the agreeable part 
of your safety-rope — that is all!” 

“No, no!” she exclaimed, wildly stamping with her feet; 
“that is a vile slander! Why should I choose precisely you 
for my safety-rope? — why reveal my soul to you? Do you not 
believe that those gentlemen who are using me against you, 
who worship and admire me, would not be ready to assist me? 
But I have rejected their homage and their offers; I despise 
and abhor them all, for they are your enemies. I hate 
France, I detest Napoleon, for you are opposed to the French 
alliance, and you have been reviled by Napoleon; I am long- 
ing for an alliance with Russia, for I know this to be your 
wish, and I have no wishes but yours, no will but your will!” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Hardenberg, laughing, “this is the 


AN ADVENTURESS. 


181 


strangest political declaration of love which woman ever made 
to man!” 

“Great Heaven! you are laughing!” she cried angrily. 
“ You do not believe me, then? How shall I be able to con- 
vince you?” 

“I will show you a way to do so,” said Hardenberg, sud- 
denly growing very grave. 

“ Tell me, and I swear to you that I will try it!” 

“ Serve me in the same manner as you have hitherto served 
my enemies. Become the prophetess of my policy, as you 
have been the prophetess of the policy of my opponents. 
Permit me to become the prompter of the clever clairvoy- 
ante, and play now as inimitably against my adversaries as you 
have played for them.” 

Frederica Hahn burst into loud laughter. “ In truth, that 
is a splendid idea,” she said, “a revenge which your excel- 
lency has devised against the other gentlemen. Here is my 
hand. I swear to serve and to be faithful to you as long as I 
live. Do you now believe in the truth of my love?” 

“Let me first see the actions inspired by this love,” said 
Hardenberg, smiling. “ I will prove to you immediately that 
I confide in your head, although I am not vain enough to be- 
lieve in your heart. Listen to me, then! It is my most 
ardent desire that the king should leave Berlin, and be with- 
drawn from the influence of the French. Prince Hatzfeld and 
old Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, however, insist that he remain 
at Berlin, and thereby manifest the adhesion of Prussia to 
the alliance with France. I suspect, nay, I might say, I 
know, that the king is in danger, and that, as soon as he 
utters a free and bold word, the French will use it as a pretext 
to seize his person and imprison him, as they have done 
Charles and Ferdinand of Spain. Caution, therefore, the 
sanguine and credulous gentlemen; point out to them the 
dangers menacing the king here; tell them that it is the 
bounden duty of his majesty to save himself for his people; 
shout with your inspired and enthusiastic voice: . ‘Go! Des- 
truction will overwhelm you at Berlin! Save the king! Con- 
vey him to Breslau!’ ” 

“ I will play my part so skilfully that even the boldest will 
be filled with dismay,” cried Frederica, with flaming eyes, 
“and that dear old Field-Marshal Kalkreuth will implore the 
king on his knees to leave Berlin, and go to Breslau. But, 
when I have played this part for you — when you have attained 


182 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


your object, and I have given you proofs of my fidelity and 
obedience — will you then believe that I love you?” 

“ We shall see,” he said, smiling. “I am, perhaps, not as 
wise as Ulysses, and shall not fill my ears with wax, but listen 
to the song of the siren, even at the risk of perishing in the 
whirlpool of passion. Let us not impose upon ourselves any 
promises concerning the destiny of our hearts; but your 
position in the world is an entirely different question. As to 
this, I must make you promises, and swear that I shall fulfil 
them. You promise that you will serve me, enter into my 
plans, and support my policy?” 

“ Yes, your excellency, I swear to you that your opponents 
themselves shall beseech the king to leave Berlin, and renounce 
France.” 

“Well, then, on the day the king arrives safely at Breslau, 
you will receive from me a document securing you an annuity 
on which you will be able to live independently here at 
Berlin.” 

“And is that all?” she asked, in a contemptuous tone. 
“You promise me nothing but money to keep me from 
starvation?” 

“No,” said Hardenberg, smiling, “I promise you more 
than that. I promise that little Frederica Hahn, the watch- 
maker’s daughter, shall be transformed into an aristocratic 
lady, and that I will procure you a husband, who will give you 
so distinguished a name that the daughter of the Marquise 
de Barbasson need not be ashamed of it. Are you content 
with that, my beauty?” 

“Would it be necessary for me to love and honor the hus- 
band whom your excellency will give me?” asked Frederica, 
after a pause. 

“ Suppose I reply in the affirmative?” asked Hardenberg. 

“Then I answer: I prefer remaining Frederica Hahn, for 
then I shall at least have the right to sit at your feet and 
worship you, and no troublesome husband will be able to pre- 
vent my doing so.” 

“ Well, then, my charming little fool, I shall select for you 
a husband who will, like a deus ex machina , appear only in 
order to confer his name upon you at the altar, and who will 
then disappear again. Do you consent to that?” 

“ Your excellency, that would be precisely such a husband 
as I would like to have, and as my imagination has dreamed 
of — a husband sans consequence — not a man, but a manikin!” 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


183 


“I shall, however, see to it that this manikin, besides his 
name, will lay at your feet another splendid wedding-gift, and 
a corheille de noce, which will be worthy of you. You accept 
my offers, then, my friend?” 

“ No, unless you add something to them.” 

“What is it, Frederica?” 

“Your love, your confidence, your belief in my love!” she 
exclaimed, sinking down at his feet. 

“Ah,” said Hardenberg, “let us not be so audacious as to 
attempt to raise the veil that may perhaps conceal a magnifi- 
cent future from our eyes!” * 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 

The royal family celebrated an important festival at Pots- 
dam on the 20th of January. Crown-Prince Frederick 
William had been confirmed at the palace church. In the 
presence of the whole royal family, of all high officers and 
foreign ambassadors, the prince, who was now seventeen years 
of age, had made his confession of faith and taken an oath to 
the venerable and noble Counsellor Sack that he would faith- 
fully adhere to God’s Word, and worship Him in times of 
weal and woe. After the ceremonies at church were over, a 
gala-dinner was to take place at court, and invitations had 
been issued not only to the members of the royal family, but 
to the dignitaries and functionaries, as well as the ambassa- 
dors, who had come over from Berlin. This dinner, however, 
was suddenly postponed. The king was said to have been 
unexpectedly taken ill. It was asserted that the excitement 
which he had undergone at church had greatly affected his 
nerves, bringing on a bleeding at the nose, which had already 
lasted several hours, and which even the most energetic reme- 
dies were unable to relieve. 

The ambassadors repaired to the palace in order to ascertain 
more about the health of the king, and the principal phy- 
sician of his majesty was able at least to assure them that his 
majesty’s condition was not by any means alarming or danger- 
ous, but that the king needed repose, and could not, accord- 

* This scene is not fictitious, but based upon the verbal statements and dis 
closures of the lady who played so prominent a part in it.— L. M. 


184 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


in g to his intention, go to Berlin that day, but would remain 
at Potsdam, and, for a few days, abstain entirely both from 
engaging in public affairs and receiving visitors. This news 
did not seem to alarm any one more seriously than the French 
ambassador, Count St. Marsan. He left the royal palace in 
depressed spirits, and, entering his carriage, ordered the 
driver in a hurried tone to return to Berlin as fast as possible. 
Scarcely three hours elapsed when the carriage stopped in 
front of the French legation, and the footman hastened to 
open the coach-door. Count St. Marsan, however, did not 
rise from his feet, but beckoned his valet de chambre to come 
to him. “ Have no letters arrived for me?” he asked. 

“ Yes, your excellency ; this was brought to the legation a 
few minutes since,” said the valet, handing a small, neatly- 
folded letter to the count. 

St. Marsan opened the note hastily. It contained nothing 
but the following words: “I have just returned from Pots- 
dam. I am probably an hour ahead of your excellency, for I 
had caused three relays to be kept in readiness for me. As 
soon as your excellency has arrived, I pray you to inform me 
of it, that I may hasten to you. — H.” 

“To the residence of Chancellor von Hardenberg!” said 
the count, putting the letter into his breast-pocket, and 
leaning back on the cushions. The carriage rolled away, and 
ten minutes afterward it stopped in front of the residence of 
the chancellor of state. St. Marsan alighted with youthful 
alacrity, and, keeping pace with the footman who was to an- 
nounce his arrival, hastened into the house and ascended the 
staircase. At the first anteroom the chancellor met him, 
greeting him with polite words and conducting him into his 
cabinet. “You have anticipated me, your excellency,” he 
said ; “ my carriage was in readiness, and I only waited for a 
message from you to repair immediately to your residence.” 

“ It is, then, highly important news that your excellency 
will be kind enough to communicate to me?” asked St. Mar- 
san, uneasily. 

“ On the contrary, I hoped you would communicate impor- 
tant news to me. I cannot conceal from you that we are all 
in great suspense and excitement; and I suppose it is un- 
necessary for me to confess to so skilful and experienced a 
diplomatist as your excellency, that the king’s illness and 
bleeding at the nose were mere fictions, and that his majesty 
thereby wished only to avoid meeting you.” 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


185 


“Indeed, that was what I suspected,” exclaimed St. Mar- 
san ; “ for the rest, every thing at Potsdam appeared to me 
very strange and inexplicable ; I confess, however, that I do 
not comprehend what has aroused the king’s indignation, 
and rendered my person so offensive to him?” 

“ What !” asked Hardenberg, with an air of astonishment. 
“Your excellency does not comprehend it? It seems to me, 
however, that this indignation is but too well-grounded. You 
know the fidelity and perseverance with which Prussia has 
adhered to the French alliance; that the king has withstood 
all promises of Russia, however alluring their character, and 
has proved by word and deed that he intends to remain faith- 
ful to his system, and never to dissolve the alliance with 
France. And now, when my zeal, eloquence, and untiring 
expositions of the utility of this alliance have succeeded in 
rendering him deaf to all promises, and attaching his heart 
more sincerely to France, you mortify and insult the king in 
so defiant a manner! Ah, count, this is to postpone the 
attainment of my object to a very distant period, and to take 
from me, perhaps forever, the order I am longing for. For 
how can I keep my word? — how can I obtain the king’s con- 
sent to the betrothal of the crown prince with a princess of 
the house of Napoleon, if France treats him with so little 
deference and respect, and proves to him that she herself does 
not regard the treaties which she has concluded with Prussia 
as imposing any obligations upon her?” 

“But your excellency drives me to despair,” exclaimed 
Count St. Marsan, “ for I confess to you again that I do not 
comprehend what act of ours would justify such grave 
reproaches.” 

“ Well, permit me, then, to remind you of what has hap- 
pened, and request a kind explanation. Your excellency, I 
suppose, is aware that the division of General Grenier, nine- 
teen thousand strong, has approached by forced marches from 
Italy and occupied Brandenburg?” 

“Yes, I am aware of that,” said St. Marsan, hesitatingly; 
“ but these troops will rest there but a few days, and continue 
their march.” 

“ On the contrary,” replied Hardenberg, “they are destined 
to remain in Brandenburg. Their commanders declare em- 
phatically that they will be stationed in this province, and 
Brandenburg is already so full of French soldiers that I do 
not see how quarters and sustenance are to be provided for an 


186 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


additional corps of nineteen thousand men. Besides, this 
augmentation of the French forces is contrary to the express 
stipulations of the existing treaties, and it is, therefore, but 
natural that this fact, which in itself would seem to point to 
a hostile intention, should have excited the serious displeasure 
of the king.” 

“ But the extraordinary circumstances in which the French 
army has been placed ever since the disastrous campaign of 
Russia, I believe ought to excuse extraordinary measures,” 
said St. Marsan, in his embarrassment. “ His majesty the 
Emperor Napoleon, on learning how offensive to the king is 
this increase in the number of troops stationed in the province 
of Brandenburg, will assuredly hasten to explain the necessity 
of the measure, and, however late it may be, request his ally’s 
consent to it.” 

“Ah,” exclaimed Hardenberg, quickly, “you admit, then, 
that this reenforcement in Brandenburg is intended to be per- 
manent? But I have not yet laid all my complaints before 
your excellency. I believe you are aware that, according to 
the last convention between France and Prussia, no French 
troops at all are to occupy Potsdam and its environs, and that 
they are not to stay there even for a single night?” 

“Yes; I am aware of this stipulation, and believe it has 
hitherto been carefully observed.” 

“Hitherto — that is to say, until to-day! But this fore- 
noon, at the very hour we were at church witnessing the con- 
firmation of the prince, whom you wish to be as a new tie 
between France and Prussia, this stipulation was violated in 
as incomprehensible as mortifying a manner. Four thousand 
men of Grenier’s division have marched this morning from 
Brandenburg to Potsdam, and have tried forcibly — do you 
understand me, your excellency? — forcibly to occupy this 
city. The municipal authorities vainly endeavored to assure 
them that this was entirely inadmissible, and it was only 
after a very stormy scene that they succeeded in prevailing 
upon the troops to leave Potsdam, and withdraw several miles 
from the city.* If no blood was shed, it was not owing to the 
disposition of your troops, but to the prudence and moderation 
of the Prussian authorities. Now, count, you fully compre- 
hend the exasperation of my master, the king; and I hope 
you will give me the satisfactory explanation which he has 
commissioned me to request.” 

* Beitzke’s “ History of the War of Liberation,” vol. i., p. 162. 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


187 


“Your excellency,” said St. Marsan, greatly surprised, “I 
really do not comprehend why the king should be so irritated 
at this trifling deviation from the stipulation of the treaties. 
You yourself said it would be impossible to find quarters and 
sustenance for so large a number of troops in the province of 
Brandenburg. This fact involved the military commanders 
in difficulties, and explains why they at last thought of send- 
ing a detachment to Potsdam, where there are so much room 
and so many vacant barracks. We could not suppose that the 
king would object to this, and that the sight of the brave 
French soldiers would fill the ally of the Emperor of the 
French with feelings of displeasure and indignation. But, 
you see, the troops yielded to the will of the king, and left 
the city.” 

“ But they remained near enough to be able to reoccupy it 
at the first signal.” 

“ And does your excellency believe that the French author- 
ities might have occasion to call troops to their assistance?” 
asked Count St. Marsan, casting a quick, searching glance at 
the chancellor. 

But Hardenberg’s countenance remained perfectly calm 
and unchanged ; only the faint glimmer of a smile was play- 
ing round his thin lips. “I do not know,” he said, “what 
motives might induce the French authorities to call troops to 
their assistance, as they are not in a hostile country, but in 
that of an ally, unless it were that they look upon every free 
expression of the royal will as an unfriendly demonstration, 
and interpret as an act of hostility, for instance, the king’s 
determination not to reside at Berlin, but at Potsdam, or, 
according to his pleasure, in any other city of the kingdom.” 

“ The king, then, intends to leave Potsdam and remove to 
another city?” inquired St. Marsan, quickly. 

“I do not say that exactly,” replied Hardenberg, smiling 
and hesitating: “but I should not be greatly surprised if, to 
avoid the quarrels between the French and Prussian authori- 
ties, and not to witness perhaps another violation of the 
treaties, and a repeated attempt of the French commanders to 
occupy Potsdam, he should remove to another city, where his 
majesty would be safe from such annoyances.” 

“The king intends to leave Potsdam,” said St. Marsan to 
himself. He added aloud : “ I do not know, however, of any 
city in the kingdom of Prussia where, owing to the present 
cordial relations between Prussia and France, there are no 


188 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


French authorities and French troops. — Yes, it occurs to me 
that, according to the treaties concluded last year, there are 
no French troops in the province of Silesia, except on the 
military road from Glogau to Dresden, and that they and 
their auxiliaries are expressly forbidden to pass through Bres- 
lau. Breslau, then, would be a city where the king would 
not run the risk of meeting French troops. ” 

“ You admit, then, that it is dangerous for the king to meet 
them? In that case it would truly be a very justifiable and 
wise step for the king to repair to Breslau.” 

“It is settled, then, that the king will go to Breslau?” 
asked St. Marsan. “ Your excellency intended to be so kind 
as to intimate this to me?” 

“ It is settled, then, that the king is in danger near the 
French troops?” asked Hardenberg. “Your excellency in- 
tended to be so kind as to intimate this to me? Ah, it 
seems to me we have been playing hide and seek for half an 
hour, while both of us really ought to be frank and sincere.” 

“AVell, then, let us be,” exclaimed St. Marsan. “I have 
likewise reason to complain, and must demand explanations. 
What does it mean that the Prussian government has suddenly 
dispatched orders to all provincial authorities to recall the 
furloughed soldiers and proceed to another draft ; that artil- 
lery-horses are bought, and a vast quantity of uniforms made?” 

“ It means simply, your excellency, that the King of Prussia 
expects to be requested by his ally, the Emperor of the 
French, to furnish him additional auxiliaries, and that he 
hastes to make the necessary preparations, to be able to com- 
ply at the earliest moment. These preparations, moreover, 
had to be made in so hasty a manner, because, as soon as the 
Russians advance farther into the interior of Prussia, of course 
both a conscription and the recall of the furloughed soldiers 
would be impossible.” 

“ But this is not all. The king yesterday authorized the 
minister of finance to issue ten million dollars in treasury- 
notes, to be taken at par. What is this enormous sum des- 
tined for, M. Chancellor? Why does the king suddenly need 
so many millions?” 

“You ask what the king needs so much money for? Sir, 
the clause ordering these treasury-notes at par would be a 
sufficient reply to your question. When a government is un- 
able to procure funds in any other way than by compelling 
its subjects to take its treasury-notes at par, it proves that it 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


189 


has no credit to negotiate a loan — no property which it might 
render available; it proves that not only its treasury, but the 
resources of the country, are completely exhausted, and that 
it has reached a point where it must either go into hopeless 
bankruptcy or endeavor to maintain itself by palliatives. 
Prussia has come to this. Let us not examine by whose fault 
or by what accumulation of expenses and obligations, this 
condition of affairs has been brought about; but the fact re- 
mains, and, as the king is unwilling that the state should be 
declared bankrupt, he resorts to a palliative, and issues ten 
million dollars in treasury-notes. In this manner he obtains 
funds, is enabled to relieve the distress of his subjects, and to 
procure horses and uniforms for the new regiments to join the 
forces of his ally, the Emperor Napoleon. Does not this ac- 
count for the issue? Are you satisfied with this explanation, 
count?” 

“ I am ; for I have no doubt that your excellency is sincere.” 

“Have we not yet proved that we are sincere?” exclaimed 
Hardenberg, in a tone of virtuous indignation. “Notwith- 
standing all allurements and promises by which Russia is try- 
ing to gain us over to her side, we are standing by France — 
and, please do not forget, at a time when she is overwhelmed 
with calamities, we give her our soldiers, and, the old ones 
having perished, recruit and equip new ones for her; we make 
all possible sacrifices — nay, we even run the risk of making 
the king lose the sympathies of his own subjects, who, you 
know, are not very favorable to a continuation of this alliance! 
And still France doubts the king’s fidelity and my own heart- 
felt devotion! he entertains such doubts at a moment when 
I declare it to be my chief object to effect a marriage of the 
crown prince with an imperial princess; and when I have 
already succeeded so far that I believe I may almost positively 
promise that the king will give his consent.” 

“What!” exclaimed St. Marsan, surprised. “The king 
consents to such a marriage?” 

“He will,” said Hardenberg, smiling, “provided France 
make the first overtures, secure him important advantages, 
and raise the kingdom to a higher rank among the states of 
Europe.”* 

“Oh, the emperor, will grant Prussia all this,” said St. 
Marsan, joyously. “It is too important to his majesty, when 
a princess of his family ascends the throne of Prussia, that he 

* Beitzke, vol. i., p. 159. 


190 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


should not willingly comply with all the wishes of his future 
brother, the King of Prussia." 

“Then we are agreed," exclaimed Hardenberg, offering his 
hand to the count, “and all misunderstandings have been 
satisfactorily explained. Only confide in us-^firmly believe 
that the system of the king has undergone no alteration — that 
no overtures, direct or indirect, have been made to Russia, 
and that he has rejected the offers which she has made to 
him. The repudiation of General York’s course is a sufficient 
proof of all this. Only believe our protestations, count, and 
entreat your emperor to dismiss the distrust he still seems to 
feel, and which alienates the hearts of the greatest emperor 
and the noblest king." 

“ I will inform his majesty of the very words your excellency 
has addressed me, and I have no doubt that the emperor on 
reading them will have the same gratification with which I 
have heard them. Thanks, therefore, your excellency! And 
now I will not detain you longer from enjoying your dinner. 
Both of us have returned from Potsdam without dining, and it is 
but natural that we should make up for it now. Therefore, 
farewell, your excellency!" 

Hardenberg gave him his arm, and conducted him with 
kind and friendly words into the anteroom. 

“ Does your excellency think," said St. Marsan, on taking 
leave, “ that I may venture to-morrow to go to Potsdam and 
personally inquire about his majesty’s health?" 

“Your excellency had better wait two or three days," said 
Hardenberg, after a moment’s reflection. “ By that time I 
shall have succeeded in overcoming the king’s displeasure, 
and if the French troops in the mean time have made no fur- 
ther attempts to occupy Potsdam, but, on the contrary, have 
withdrawn still farther from the city, it will be easy for me 
to persuade the king that the whole occurrence was a mere 
misunderstanding. Have patience, then, for three days, my 
dear count!” 

“ Well, then, for three days. But then I shall see the king 
at Potsdam, shall I not?” 

“Ah," exclaimed Hardenberg, smiling, “how can I know 
where it will please his majesty to be three days hence? The 
king is his own master, and I should think at liberty to go 
hither and thither as he pleases, provided he does not go to 
the Russian camp, and I would be able to prevent that." 

“It is certain,” muttered Count St. Marsan, when he was 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


191 


alone in his carriage, “it is certain that the king will no 
longer be at Potsdam three days hence, but intends to remove 
secretly, and establish his court at a greater distance. The 
moment, therefore, has come when we must act energetically. 
The troops have come for this very purpose, and the emperor’s 
orders instruct us, in case the king should manifest any in- 
clination to renew his former alliance with Russia, and to break 
with France, immediately to seize the king’s person, in order 
to deprive the Prussian nation, which is hostile to us, of its 
leader and standard-bearer. Well, then, the orders of the 
emperor must be carried into execution. We must try to have 
the king arrested to-day. I shall immediately take the neces- 
sary steps, and send couriers to Grenier’s troops.” The car- 
riage stopped, and Count St. Marsan, forgetful of his dinner, 
hastened into his cabinet, and sent for his private secretaries. 
An hour afterward two couriers left the French legation, and 
shortly after an elegant carriage rolled from the gateway. 
Two footmen, who did not wear their liveries, were seated on 
the high box ; but no one was able to perceive who sat inside, 
for the silken window-curtains had been lowered. 

Chancellor von Hardenberg, after the French ambassador 
left him, instead of going to the dining-room, returned to his 
cabinet. Like Count St. Marsan, he seemed to have forgotten 
his dinner. With his hands folded behind him, he was slowly 
pacing his room, and a proud smile was beaming in his face. 
“I hope,” he said to himself, “I have succeeded in reassur- 
ing, and yet alarming the count. He believes in me and in 
the sincerity of my sentiments, and hence in the fidelity of 
Prussia to France, and this reassures him ; but he understood 
very w r ell the hints I dropped about the possibility of the king 
leaving Potsdam and going to Breslau, and this alarms him. 
He may, perhaps, be hot-headed enough to allow himself to 
be carried away by his uneasiness, and make an attempt to 
seize the king. If he should, I have won my game, and shall 
succeed in withdrawing the king from his reach by conveying 
him to Breslau. Well, fortunately, I have a reliable agent at 
the count’s house, and if any thing should happen, he will 
take good care to let me know it immediately. I may, there- 
fore, tranquilly wait for further developments.” At this 
moment the door opened, and Conrad, the old valet de cham- 
bre, entered, presenting a letter on a silver tray to the chan- 
cellor of state. 

“From whom?” asked Hardenberg. 


192 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ From her ! ” whispered Conrad, anxiously. “ Her nurse 
brought the letter a few minutes ago, and she says it ought to 
be at once delivered to your excellency.” 

“Very well,” said Hardenberg, beckoning to Conard to 
leave the room. But Conrad did not go; he remained at the 
door, and cast imploring glances on his master. 

“Well,” inquired Hardenberg, impatiently, “do you want 
to tell me any thing else?” 

“I do,” said Conrad, timidly; “I just wished to tell you 
that her excellency Madame von Hardenberg has condescended 
again this morning to box my ears, because I refused to tell 
her whither his excellency the chancellor went every evening.” 

“Poor Conrad!” said Hardenberg, smiling, “my wife will 
assuredly pat your cheeks until they are insensible. There, 
take this little golden plaster.” 

He offered a gold-piece to Conrad, but the faithful servant 
refused to accept it. “ Ho, your excellency, I do not wish it, 
for I have as much as I need, and I know that your excellency 
will take care of me when I am too old and feeble to work. I 
only intended to take the liberty to caution your excellency, 
so that you may be a little on your guard. Madame von Har- 
denberg has told her lady’s-maid that she intends to follow 
the chancellor to-night, in order to find out whither he goes, 
and that she then would go in the morning to the lady and 
make such a fuss as to deter her from receiving your excel- 
lency any more. The lady’s-maid has confided this to me, 
and ordered me to report it immediately, for you know that 
we all would willingly die for you, and that even the female 
servants of her excellency remain with her only because they 
love and adore you, and because it is a great honor to belong to 
the household of a master whom all Berlin loves and reveres.” 

“ I thank you and the others for your attachment and fidel- 
ity,” said Hardenberg, nodding kindly to his old servant. 
“ Tell my wife’s maid that I am especially obliged to her, and 
that I desire her to continue serving me faithfully. For what 
you all have to suffer by the displeasure of my wife, I shall 
take pains to indemnify you, particularly if you mention as 
little as possible to outsiders any thing about the state of 
affairs prevailing in my family, and the sufferings we all have 
to undergo in consequence of it. Go, Conrad ; be reticent 
and vigilant! I shall profit by your advice, and my wife will 
be none the wiser.” He nodded once more to Conrad, and, 
when the servant left the room, Hardenberg turned his eyes 


THE TWO DIPLOMATISTS. 


193 


again toward the little note which he still held unopened in 
his hand. He unfolded it hastily and read. It contained 
only the following words : “ My predictions are producing a 

good effect. Dear Kockeritz is greatly alarmed for the safety 
of his beloved king, and even old Kalkreuth was startled by 
the terrible prophecies of the clairvoyante. I am sure both 
of them will advise the king to shun the danger, and transfer 
the seat of government to some other place. Heaven grant 
that their words may be impressive, and that we may attain 
our object — for you, the liberty of Prussia; for me, the thral- 
dom of my heart ! For what else do I wish than to be your 
slave, and to lie at your feet, to narrate to you the story of 
my love? For you I wish to be an humble slave; for all 
others, Diavolezza Frederica, the watchmaker’s daughter — * 
and when shall I become a marquise?” 

“It is true,” said Hardenberg, smiling, and tearing the 
paper in small pieces; “it is true, she is a diavolezza , but one 
of the most amiable and charming sort, and perhaps ere long 
I shall, notwithstanding her deviltry, consider her an angel, 
and believe her charming comedy to be entirely true and sin- 
cere. But this is no time for thinking of such things. The 
grave affairs of life require our exclusive attention. Kocker- 
itz, then, has been convinced, and even Kalkreuth has been 
shaken in his stupid belief in the French ! Well, may we at 
length succeed in taking the fortress of this royal heart! — 
Ah, some one raps again at the door! Come in! What, 
Conrad, it is you again? Do you come to tell me that my 
wife has again boxed your ears?” 

“No,” said Conrad, smiling. “This time I have to an- 
nounce a French soldier, who insists on seeing your excellency. 
He says he has found a precious ornament which you have 
lost, and for which he would himself get his reward.” 

“Well, let him come in; we shall see what he brings me,” 
said Hardenberg. 

A few minutes afterward Conrad opened the door, and a 
French soldier entered the room. “ Now, let us see what you 
have found, my friend,” said Hardenberg, “and what you 
bring back to me before I have missed it.” 

“Your excellency, it is a precious ornament,” said the sol- 
dier; “but I must give it to you in secret.” 

“ Withdraw, Conrad,” said Hardenberg, beckoning to the 
servant, who had remained at the door, and was distrustfully 
and anxiously watching every motion of the soldier. 


194 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Conrad obeyed, but be left the door ajar, and remained 
close to it, ready to reenter the cabinet at the first word of 
his beloved master. 

“Now we are alone. Speak!” said Hardenberg. 

“ Your excellency,” whispered the soldier, advancing several 
steps, “ the valet de chambre of Count St. Marsan — that is 
to sa} r , my brother — has sent me to you. He dares not him- 
self come, for the house of your excellency is watched by spies, 
and he would instantly be suspected, if he were seen entering 
it. I am to ask your excellency whether you will give me 
twenty louis d’ors for a letter from my brother which I am to 
deliver to you.” 

“ This letter, then, contains highly important information?” 

“Yes, your excellency; my brother says he would let you 
have it at so low a rate because he had so long been connected 
with you, and because you had always treated him in a mu- 
nificent manner.” 

“ Does your brother require me to pay that sum before I 
have received the letter?” 

“He said he would leave that entirely to your excellency ; 
only he thinks it would be more advantageous to you to pay 
the money before reading the letter.” 

“How so, more advantageous to me?” 

“ Because your excellency, after reading it, would doubtless, 
in your joy at having received this singular and important 
information, pay him a larger sum than he himself had asked. ” 

“In that case I prefer to read the letter first,” said Har- 
denberg, smiling, “for I must not allow your brother’s 
generosity to surpass mine.” 

“Well, then, your excellency, here is the letter,” said the 
soldier, handing a small, folded paper to the chancellor of state. 

Hardenberg took it, and, as if to prevent the soldier from 
seeing the expression of his face while he was reading it, he 
stepped into the window-niche and turned his back to him. 
The soldier, however, fixed his lurking glances on the chan- 
cellor. He saw that a sudden shock made the whole frame 
of the chancellor tremble, and a triumphant smile overspread 
the countenance of the secret observer. 

After a few minutes Hardenberg turned round again, and, 
carefully folding up the paper, concealed it in his bosom. 
“My friend,” he said, “your brother was right. Twenty 
louis d’ors would be too low a price for this letter. We must 
pay more for it.” He stepped to his desk, and, opening one 


THE ATTACK. 


195 


of the drawers, took a roll from it and counted down a num- 
ber of gold-pieces on the table. “ Here are thirty louis d’ors,” 
said Hardenberg, “ and one for your trouble. See whether I 
have counted correctly. Tell your brother to continue serv- 
ing me faithfully, and furnishing me with reliable reports. 
He may always count on my gratitude!” 

Scarcely had the soldier left the room, when Hardenberg 
drew the paper from his bosom and glanced over it again. 
“ At length !” he exclaimed, joyously. “ The decisive moment 
is at hand! How I hope to attain my object!” He rang the 
bell violently. “ Have my carriage brought to the front door 
in half an hour,” he said to Conrad, as soon as he entered the 
room. “ But my own horses are tired. Send for four post- 
horses. A courier is immediately to set out for Potsdam, 
and see to it that relay horses be in readiness for me at 
Steglitz and Zehlendorf !” 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE ATTACK. 

It was six o’clock in the afternoon. The gloomy January 
day had already yielded to a dark, cold night, enshrouding 
the city and vicinity of Potsdam. The king was, as usual, 
to go to Sans-Souci toward nightfall. There, far from the 
turmoil of the world, he liked to spend his mornings and 
evenings, retiring from intrusive eyes into the quiet ‘of his 
simple domestic life. Like his august grand-uncle, Frederick 
II., the king laid down his crown and the splendor of his 
position at the gates of the small palace of Sans-Souci, and, 
at this country-seat, consecrated by so many historical recol- 
lections, he was not a king, but a man, a father, and a friend. 
At Sans-Souci his children gathered around him every even- 
ing, and, by their mirth and tender love, endeavored to dispel 
the clouds from the careworn brow of their father ; at Sans- 
Souci, Frederick William received the small circle of his in- 
timate friends — there old General von Kockeritz, Field- 
Marshal Kalkreuth, Count Dohna, Chancellor von Hardenberg, 
and the few who had remained faithful to him, were allowed 
to approach without ceremonial or etiquette. Foreign guests 
and court visitors, however, were never received at the coun- 
try palace; he saw them only in the city of Potsdam, where 


196 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


he transacted government affairs. Thither the king repaired 
punctually at ten o’clock every morning, where took place the 
meetings of the cabinet, the consultations with the high 
functionaries, the audiences given to the foreign ambassadors, 
and the official levees, and there the king took his dinner in 
the midst of his family and the officers of his court. But as 
soon as the clock struck seven he entered his carriage without 
any attendants, and drove out to Sans-Souci. This had been 
his invariable habit for many years; and when the inhabitants 
of the street leading to his country-seat heard the roll of a 
carriage at that hour, they said as positively as though they 
heard the clock striking, “ It is just seven, for the king is 
driving to Sans-Souci.” 

The coachman, as was his habit, as soon as the clock struck 
six, would harness two horses to the plain carriage which the 
king always used, and generally drove up to the small side-gate 
a few minutes to seven o’clock. Without giving any orders, or 
uttering a word, the king would enter, and noisily closing the 
door, give thereby the signal to start. The chime of the neigh- 
boring church had just commenced playing the first part of the 
old hymn of “ Uel Y immer Treu und Redlichkeit ,” * thus in- 
dicating that it was half-past six when the carriage appeared 
-at the side-gate. The wind was howling across the palace 
square and through the colonnade in front of the neighbor- 
ing park, hurling the snow into the face of the driver, and 
lifting up the cape of his cloak around his head, as if to pro- 
tect him from the cold and stormy night. Thomas, the 
king’s coachman, had just removed with some difficulty the 
large cape from his face, and rubbed the snow from his eyes, 
when he heard the side-gate open. A dark figure emerged 
from it and entered the carriage, and noisily closed the door. 
Thomas had received his accustomed signal, and, although 
wondering that the king had come fifteen minutes earlier than 
usual, he took the reins, whipped the horses, and the carriage 
rolled away along the route to Sans-Souci. The snow-storm 
drowned the roll of the wheels, and rendered the vehicle 
almost invisible; besides, there was no one to take particular 
notice of it, for only here and there some closely-muffled per- 
son was to be seen on the street, too busy with himself — too 
much engaged in holding fast his fluttering cloak and pro- 
tecting himself from the driving^snow. 

The square in front of the palace was deserted. The two 

* “ Practise always truth and honesty.” 


THE ATTACK. 


197 


sentinels were walking up and down with slow, measured 
steps in front of the main portal, now looking up to the brill- 
iantly-lighted windows of the royal sitting-room, and now 
contemplating the two dim lanterns which stood on the iron 
railing, and whose light, struggling with the storm, seemed 
about to be extinguished. The side-gate of the palace re- 
mained dark and lonely, but only for a short time. From 
the side of the market-place a carriage slowly approached, and 
stopped in front of the palace, precisely on the same spot 
which the king’s carriage had previously occupied. The 
coachman sat as rigidly and stiffly on the box as worthy 
Thomas, and the storm played with his cloak, and threw the 
snow into his face, precisely in the same manner. A patrol 
marched across the palace-square, and approached the senti- 
nels in front of the main portal; the usual words of command 
were heard, the guard was relieved, and the sentinels marched 
off, surrendering their places to their less fortunate comrades. 
When they passed the side of the palace where the carriage 
was to be seen, they said to each other: “Ah, we are off 
guard a few minutes too early. It cannot be quite seven 
o’clock, for the king’s carriage is still waiting at the gate.” 
The driver’s laugh was unheard. 

It was really not yet seven — the hour when the king usually 
left the palace. He was still in his sitting-room, and his two 
old friends, General von Kockeritz and Field-Marshal Kalk- 
reuth, were with him. A pause in their conversation set in, 
which seemed to have been of a very grave character, for the 
faces of the two old gentlemen looked serious and careworn, 
and the king was pacing the room slowly and with a gloomy air. 

“Kockeritz.” he said, after a pause, standing in front of 
the old general, who was his most intimate friend, and look- 
ing him full in the face, “you are really in earnest, then? 
You believe in the prophecies of the clairvoyante?” 

“I confess, your majesty, that I cannot but believe them,” 
said Kockeritz, sighing. “ Her words, her whole manner, all 
her gestures, bear the stamp of truthfulness to such an extent, 
that I would deem it a crime against nature to believe her to 
be an impostor; she has, moreover, already predicted to me 
the most wonderful things, and in her trance read my thoughts. 
She has looked, as it were, into the depth of my soul, so that 
I cannot doubt longer that she really is a prophetess.” 

“And you, field-marshal — do you, too, believe in her?” 
asked the king. 


198 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“I do, reluctantly, and in spite of myself, but I cannot 
help it,” said the old field-marshal, shrugging his shoulders. 
“ This girl speaks so forcibly, with such eloquence and such 
fervor of expression, that one is obliged to believe in her. 
Your majesty knows that I have always sided with those who 
have deemed the alliance of Prussia with France to be indis- 
pensable for the welfare and salvation of the country, and that 
I entertain the highest admiration for the genius, the char- 
acter, and military talents of the Emperor Napoleon; I have 
never concealed my conviction that Prussia is lost if your 
majesty renounce Napoleon, and accept the proffered hand of 
Russia. Still, this girl has filled me with misgivings. She 
cried in so heart-rending a tone, with so impressive an anx- 
iety, ‘Save the king — the king is in danger! Leave Berlin — 
leave Potsdam! — save the king!’ that I felt a shudder per- 
vading my limbs, and it seemed to me as though I saw already 
the hand which was raised menacingly against the sacred head 
of your majesty. I certainly do not believe that the Emperor 
Napoleon has any thing to do with this danger; but some 
officious man in authority, some adventurous general, might 
strike a blow on his own responsibility, and in the belief that 
he would gain the favor of his emperor, and anticipate his 
most secret wishes.” 

“And what do you believe?” asked the king, moodily. 
“ Tell me, Kockeritz, what sort of danger do you think is 
menacing me?” 

“I do not know, your majesty,” said Kockeritz, almost 
timidly, “ but I am sure there is danger, and I would beseech 
your majesty to remove the seat of government to some place 
where you would be safer, and where we would not be exposed 
to the attacks of prowling, reckless detachments of soldiers, 
such as we saw here to our profound regret but a few days 
since. Your majesty ought to go to Breslau !” 

“Ah,” exclaimed the king, vehemently, “Hardenberg has 
succeeded, then, in gaining you over to his views? You are 
now suddenly of opinion that I ought to remove to Breslau?” 

“ Your majesty, I swear to you that Chancellor von Har- 
denberg has not even tried to gain me over to his views, and 
that he assuredly would not have succeeded. I have no politi- 
cal motives whatever in entreating your majesty now to go to 
Breslau, but am actuated exclusively by my fears for your 
personal safety. These troops of General Grenier have greatly 
alarmed me; their strange expedition to Potsdam was calcu- 


THE ATTACK. 


199 


lated to give rise to the most serious misgivings, and when I 
add to this the prophecies of the clairvoyante, a profound 
concern for the safety of your majesty fills my heart, and I 
feel like imploring you on my knees to leave Potsdam and to 
go to Breslau!” 

“ Let me join in the request of General Kockeritz, your 
majesty,” said Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, sighing; “ I, who on 
the battle-field never knew fear, am afraid of a danger to 
which I am not even able to give a name.” 

“ And, owing to these vague presentiments, I am to take a 
step that might endanger the peace of my country and the 
existence of my crown!” exclaimed the king, with unusual 
vehemence. “ For, do not deceive yourself in regard to this 
point : if I go to Breslau, Napoleon, who is perpetually dis- 
trusting me, and who is well aware that my alliance with him 
is highly repugnant to my inclinations and my personal 
wishes, would deem it equivalent to an open rupture, and be- 
lieve I had gone over to his enemy, the Emperor of Russia. 
But, what is still worse, my country, my people, will also be- 
lieve this to be the case. Every one will suppose that, 
although I publicly branded York’s defection as a crime, and 
removed him from the command-in-chief, I secretly connived 
at what he did, and that my journey to Breslau is but a con- 
tinuation of York’s plans. Every one will believe that our 
policy has undergone a change, and that the alliance with 
France is at an end. It was an eyesore to the people; and 
if they now believe themselves to be delivered from it, the 
most calamitous consequences might ensue. A rising against 
the French will take place as soon as I merely seem to give 
the signal for it.” 

“Yes, that is true,” exclaimed Kalkreuth; “your majesty 
is right; it might, after all, be dangerous if you suddenly 
leave the city where you have so long resided. It might be 
deemed equivalent to a rupture with France, and we are, un- 
fortunately, too weak to run so great a risk. France is the 
natural ally of Prussia; that is what the great Frederick said, 
and Napoleon is also of this opinion. By changing your sys- 
tem of policy, your majesty would only endanger your position 
and give the Emperor Napoleon grounds for treating you as an 
enemy. To be sure, I know that there are fools who regard 
France as prostrated, and utterly unable to rise again, but you 
will soon see her with an army of three hundred thousand 
men, as brilliant as the former.” 


200 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“I am entirely of your opinion,” said the king, thought- 
fully, “ the resources of France seem inexhaustible, and — ” 

At this moment the door of the cabinet was softly opened, 
and Timm the chamberlain made his appearance. “ His ex- 
cellency, Chancellor von Hardenberg,” he said, in a loud 
voice, and at the same moment Hardenberg appeared on the 
threshold of the royal room. 

“Pardon me, your majesty,” he said, quickly approaching, 
“ for availing myself of the permission you have given me of 
entering your cabinet without being ceremoniously announced ; 
but pressing alfairs will excuse me.” 

“ Has any thing occurred at Berlin ?” asked the king, hastily. 

“ No, your majesty ; Berlin is, at least for the present, per- 
fectly quiet,” said Hardenberg, laying stress on every word. 
“ But scenes of the most intense excitement and an open in- 
surrection might have occurred at Berlin and at Potsdam if 
I had not fortunately arrived here in time.” 

“ What do you mean?” inquired the king. 

“I mean,” replied Hardenberg, slowly and solemnly, “ I 
mean that your majesty is at this very moment in danger of 
being seized and abducted by the French.” 

The king gave a start, and his face colored for a moment ; 
Kockeritz and Kalkreuth exchanged glances of terror and 
dismay. 

“You have also seen the clairvoyante, then?” asked the 
king, after a pause, almost indignantly. “ You too have 
allowed yourself to be frightened by her vaticinations?” 

“ No, your majesty, I do not believe in them, but only in 
what is true and real. Will your majesty condescend to listen 
to me for a moment?” 

“Speak, M. Chancellor of State.” 

“ I must confess that, imitating the example set us by the 
French, I have my spies and agents at the legation of Count 
St. Marsan, and at the residence of Marshal Augereau, 
governor-general of the province of Brandenburg, just as well 
as they have theirs at the palace of your majesty, at my 
house, and everywhere else. I pay my spies liberally, and 
hence they serve me faithfully. Well, three hours since I re- 
ceived a message from my first and most reliable spy, and this 
message seemed to me so important that I immediately has- 
tened hither in order to take the necessary steps, and, if 
possible, ward off the blow aimed at your majesty.” 

“And what blow — what danger is it?” 


THE ATTACK. 


201 


“ I have told your majesty already that yon are in danger of 
being carried oif by the French. Will your majesty permit 
me to read to you what my spy (who, as I stated already, is a 
very reliable man) writes me about it?” 

“ Read!” exclaimed the king. 

Hardenberg bowed, and, taking a paper from his memoran- 
dum-book, read as follows: “‘They intend to seize the king 
to-night. A courier has been dispatched to the troops of 
Grenier’s division, which, since yesterday, is encamped at a 
short distance from Potsdam ; he conveys to the troops the 
order to march to the outskirts of the city, and to wait there 
at a carefully designated point for the arrival of a carriage. 
They are then to surround this carriage, and take it at a full 
gallop along the road leading to Brandenburg. The king 
will be in this carriage — seized in a very simple manner. It 
has been ascertained that the king drives at seven o’clock 
every evening to Sans-Souci, and the most minute details of 
what occurs on this occasion have been reported. A man 
will, therefore, conceal himself shortly after nightfall near the 
door by which the king leaves the palace. He will approach 
the carriage a few minutes before seven, enter it, and noisily 
close the door as the king is in the habit of doing. The 
coachman will believe this to be the usual signal, and start. 
As soon as he has reached the deserted avenue outside the gate 
that leads to Sans-Souci, the man sitting in the carriage will 
open the front window, throw a cape over the coachman’s 
head, thus blindfolding and preventing him from uttering 
any cries. At the same time two agents, concealed behind 
the trees, will approach, stop t'he horses, seize the coachman, 
draw him from the box, tie his hands and feet, and then put 
him into the carriage. The horses are to be half unhitched 
so that neither they nor the coachman will be able to stir 
from the spot. In the mean time another carriage will 
occupy the place of the former, and wait for the king at the 
side-gate of the palace. As soon as his majesty has entered, 
it will start, take at first the route of Sans-Souci, but outside 
of the gate will immediately turn to the left, and drive for 
some time at a quick trot along the narrow road near the 
garden. At some distance from the city the chasseurs of 
Grenier’s division will await it, and then form its escort. 
The carriage is arranged in such a manner that it cannot be 
opened on the inside. As soon as the king has entered it, he 
will, therefore, be a prisoner. ’ ” 

14 


202 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“And you believe in the reliability of these statements?” 
asked the king, when Hardenberg paused. 

“ I am satisfied of it, your majesty. The reports of my spy 
have hitherto always proved correct and reliable. It would 
be impossible for me to doubt his accuracy.” 

The king looked at his watch. “ It is already a quarter 
past seven,” he said. “Then it is not my carriage that is 
waiting for me at the palace-gate, but another?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“The clairvoyante was right,” muttered General Kockeritz. 

“ If I now enter the carriage, you believe, M. Chancellor, 
I would be carried off?” 

“ That is what my spy reports, and I have additional evi- 
dence confirming his statements. At least it is entirely cor- 
rect that Grenier’s chasseurs are again in the immediate 
vicinity of Potsdam. I confess to your majesty that, owing to 
this danger, I have already taken the liberty, without obtain- 
ing your consent, to take most urgent steps, and that I have 
conferred with the commanders of the garrison of Potsdam 
for this purpose. These gentlemen, like myself, felt the 
necessity of immediate action. Couriers and spies were sent 
out by them in all directions, and have brought the news that 
the four thousand men who, two days ago, made an attempt 
to occupy Potsdam forcibly, are now again approaching the 
city in the utmost haste. Already about fifty chasseurs are 
stationed behind the high fence of the last garden on the 
road, alluded to in the letter of my py, and seem to wait 
there for the carriage. Your majesty will see all my state- 
ments confirmed if you will be gracious enough to receive the 
report of the officer who commanded the expedition, and who 
has now accompanied me to the palace. The commanders of 
the garrison found the proofs of the insidious intentions of the 
French to be so startling that they are causing at this moment 
all their troops to form in line, and are marching them as 
noiselessly as possible to the neighboring park.” 

“Without having previously applied to me for orders?” 
asked the king, quickly. 

“ Your majesty, the pressing danger excuses this rashness. 

I have engaged to solicit your majesty’s consent to this 
measure.” 

“ The troops shall be sent to their quarters,” said the king, 
energetically, after a moment’s reflection. 

“Great Heaven!” exclaimed General Kockeritz, anxiously, 


THE ATTACK. 


203 


“what does your majesty intend to do? Will yon expose 
yourself to the danger of — ” 

“Hush!” interrupted the king, sternly, seizing the bell 
and ringing. The chamberlain entered. “ The officer who 
is waiting in the anteroom is to come in,” ordered the king. 
A minute afterward the officer appeared, and remained in a 
military attitude at the door. 

“ Did you reconnoitre to-night?” inquired the king. 

“I did, your majesty. A part of Grenier’s division is 
rapidly approaching the city ; fifty chasseurs are already on 
the garden road behind the last board fence.” 

“Return to the general commanding,” ordered the king. 
“ The troops are at once to leave the park and go back to their 
quarters. The whole affair is to be kept a secret, and all eclat 
to be avoided. Go!” 

The officer saluted, and turned toward the door, but on 
opening it he looked back and cast an inquiring glance on 
the face of the chancellor. Hardenberg nodded almost im- 
perceptibly. The officer went out and closed the door after 
him.* 

“I do not wish this affair to be made public,” said the 
king, “ otherwise I should have to renounce France immedi- 
ately and decidedly; but my circumstances forbid me to do 
so.” 

“ But, your majesty, you are now exposing yourself to the 
danger of falling into the hands of the French,” exclaimed 
General Kockeritz, anxiously. “If Grenier’s troops enter 
Potsdam now, they would meet with no resistance whatever, 
as your majesty has withdrawn our own soldiers.” 

“ The French troops will not enter Potsdam after seeing 
that their plan has failed, and that I do not arrive in the 
coach at the place where the chasseurs are waiting for me,” 
said the king. 

“ Besides,” exclaimed Field-Marshal Kalkreuth indignantly, 
“ it remains to be seen whether the whole intrigue is not a 
mere fiction. The chancellor of state himself said that he 
paid his spies well. Perhaps some enterprising fellow has 
got up this story for the sole purpose of receiving a large re- 
ward. He could imagine that the king, after being warned, 

* When the king heard that the troops had been marched to the park, he ordered 
them to be dismissed to their quarters ; but the apprehensions of the officers were 
so great that they dared to obey the royal orders only partially. They marched 
the troops from the park to another place, where they kept them under arms dur- 
ing the whole night and a part of the following day. 


204 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


would not drive out to Sans-Souci to-night, and that the affair 
therefore would be buried in the darkness of this evening.” 

“ And does your excellency believe, too, that my spy caused 
four thousand men to march upon Potsdam to second his in- 
trigue?” asked Hardenberg, smiling. “ Do you believe that 
he is able to send detachments of chasseurs whithersoever he 
pleases?” 

“ I cannot believe in this plan; it would he too audacious!” 
exclaimed Field-Marshal Kalkreuth. “ I ask a favor of your 
majesty. If this report is correct, the carriage in which you 
are to be abducted ought now to be at the palace-gate and 
await your majesty. Please permit me to go down-stairs and 
enter it in your place. I want to see whither they will take 
me.” 

“ No,” said the king — “ no ! I wish to avoid any thing like 
an open rupture with France. The time for that has not 
come yet.” 

“ Oh,” whispered Hardenberg to himself, sadly and re- 
proachfully, “ that time will never come ! My hopes are 
blasted.” 

The king paced the room silently and musingly, with his 
hands folded behind him. Field-Marshal Kalkreuth and 
General Kockeritz followed every motion in anxious suspense. 
Hardenberg cast down his eyes, and his features were expres- 
sive of profound grief. 

“Gentlemen,” said the king, “come with me! Let us go 
down to my carriage!” 

“Your majesty, I trust, does not intend to enter it?” ex- 
claimed Kockeritz, in dismay. 

“Come with me!” said the king, almost smilingly. 
“ Come!” 

The firm, determined tone of his majesty admitted of no 
resistance. The three left the cabinet with him in silence, 
crossed the anteroom and the lighted corridor, until they ar- 
rived at the small staircase leading to the side-gate of the 
palace. All was silent. Not a footman met them on the 
way, and only a single sentinel stood at the upper end of the 
passage. The king, who led the way, went quickly down and 
across the small hall toward the door, which he opened with 
a jerk. The storm swept into the hall and beat into the faces 
of the gentlemen. It had already blown out the two lanterns 
in front of the door, and an impenetrable darkness reigned 
outside. 


THE ATTACK. 


205 


“Hush, now!” whispered the king. “Step out softly and 
place yourselves here at the wall. No one will see you. 
Wait now!” He quickly stepped to the carriage, scarcely 
visible in the darkness, and, groping for the knob of the 
coach door, opened it. A moment of breathless suspense en- 
sued for those who stood at the wall, and tried to see what 
was to occur. The king slammed the door, and jumped back 
toward the gate. At the same moment the coachman whipped 
the horses and the carriage rapidly sped away. 

“Now, let us reenter the palace,” said the king, with per- 
fect composure. “It is a stormy night! Come!” He 
stepped back into the hall, and the gentlemen followed. 
“ Well,” he said, smiling, and standing still, “the coachman, 
in the firm belief that I am in the carriage, will take the in- 
dicated route ; the chasseurs will surround the carriage and 
capture it. Let those who got up this miserable intrigue con- 
vince themselves to their shame that it has miscarried. They 
will not dare complain, and the whole affair will never be 
revealed.” 

“ But suppose it should really have been your majesty’s car- 
riage?” asked Kalkreuth. “The darkness was so great that 
it could not be recognized.” 

“ But the darkness did not prevent me from feeling,” said 
the king, “ and my hands served me this time instead of my 
eyes. I felt that it was another carriage than mine. The 
door-knob was much larger. But now I should like to have 
some news about my dear old coachman, Thomas, and learn 
what has become of him.” 

“If your majesty will permit me, I will try to ascertain if 
the carriage is still in the avenue outside the gate,” said 
Kalkreuth, quickly. 

“I intended to request you to do so, field -marshal,” said 
the king. “Your coach is in readiness, is it not?” 

“It is, your majesty.” 

“Let the servants, then, have it brought up,” said the 
king, ascending the staircase. On arriving at the anteroom, 
he himself ordered the lackey in waiting to have the carriage 
of the field-marshal brought to the door. 

“If your majesty will permit me,” said General Kockeritz, 
“I will accompany the field-marshal.” 

“I ask for the same favor,” said the chancellor of state, 
quickly. 

“Accompany the field-marshal, general,” said the king, 


206 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


turning to Kockeritz. “ Take no servants with you, except 
Timm my chamberlain, who may render assistance to my poor 
Thomas. My chamberlain is reticent and faithful. Pray 
have your carriage stopped at the entrance of the avenue, and 
proceed then on foot. If you find every thing as stated in 
the spy’s report, Timm will drive the carriage to Sans-Souci, 
that my good old coachman may go to bed and recover from 
his fright. You will tell him, however, that I wish him not 
to breathe a word about his adventure. You, gentlemen, will 
thereupon return and report to me. And you, M. Chancellor, 
will follow me into my cabinet.” 


CHAPTER XXI. 

* THE COURIER’S RETURN. 

On reaching his cabinet, the king slowly paced his room, 
seemingly without noticing the presence of the chancellor. 
Hardenberg, who waited in silent patience, withdrew softly 
into a window-niche, and listened to the noise of the carriage 
rolling away at this moment. “ The spies the king has sent 
out are driving to the avenue,” said Hardenberg to himself. 
“ They will, no doubt, find every thing as stated in the report, 
and yet all will be in vain. He will not make up his mind to 
enter a bold course, and while he is hesitating all of us and 
Prussia will perish.” 

While he was thus absorbed in his sombre reflections, and 
sadly gazing out into the dark night, he had not noticed that 
the king stood still at the other end of the room, and, with 
his arms folded on his breast, was casting searching glances 
on the chancellor of state. Now he crossed the room with 
slow steps and erect head, and stood in front of Hardenberg. 
“ M. Chancellor,” said Frederick William, in an unusually 
mild and gentle tone, “you are sad and discontented, are you 
not? You are almost despairing, and it seems to you that 
the King of Prussia, whom the French have again so deeply 
insulted and humiliated, and whom Napoleon is now threaten- 
ing even with seizure, should at length revolt against such 
treatment, and submit no longer to it. It seems to you that, 
cut to the quick by so many slights, insults, and perfidies, he 
ought to put an end to his temporizing policy; to rise and 


THE COURIER’S RETURN. 


207 


exclaim, ‘I will die rather than bear this disgrace any longer! 
I will die rather than endure these humiliations. ’ You are 
right; were I, like you, so fortunate as to be nothing but a 
man who had to defend only his own honor and existence, I 
would be allowed to risk every thing in order to win every 
thing. But I am the king, and, moreover, the king of an 
unfortunate state. I must forget my own wrongs, and re- 
member only that I have sacred duties to fulfil toward my 
people, and that, so far as my own person is concerned, I am 
not yet allowed to possess any other courage than that of 
resignation. I am not allowed to stake the existence of my 
monarchy and the welfare of my people to obtain personal satis- 
faction. Until I obtain the incontestable certainty that such 
a course would be brought to a successful issue, I must not throw 
down the gauntlet to France, for failure in this case would be 
not only my ruin, but that of my whole people. I shall wait, 
therefore, M. Chancellor, for an opportunity ; but I believe that 
this course requires on my part more constancy and courage 
than if I, as you wish me to do, should now unreservedly forsake 
France and render the decision of my fate dependent on the 
fortune of war. It is my solemn conviction that I ought not 
to do this, but advance only step by step, and with the utmost 
caution and deliberation, for — Well, what is it?” asked 
the king, turning to the chamberlain, who opened the door 
and entered the cabinet. 

“ Pardon me, your majesty, for disturbing you,” said the 
chamberlain, respectfully. “ But the gentleman who has just 
entered the anteroom assured me that he was the bearer of 
important news, which admitted of no delay.” 

“And who is the gentleman?” 

“ Sire, it is Major Natzmer, whom your majesty sent re- 
cently as a courier to Old Prussia.” 

“Natzmer?” exclaimed the king, joyously, “admit him at 
once ! — Ah, M. Chancellor, we shall hear now how affairs are 
looking in my province of Prussia, and how my troops have 
received York’s removal from his command.” 

“ I hope Major Natzmer will bring your majesty good and 
joyful news,” said Hardenberg, with perfect outward calm- 
ness, while his heart was throbbing with impatience for Major 
Natzmer, who now entered ; and, while he saluted the king, 
Hardenberg fixed his eyes, with an anxious expression, on the 
countenance of the new-comer. For a moment their eyes 
met. There was an inquiry in those of Hardenberg; Natz- 


208 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


mer replied by a slight motion of his eyelids, and an almost 
imperceptible smile. 

“ In the first place, report to me briefly and succinctly,” said 
the king. “ Reply to all my questions as pointedly and clearly 
as possible. Afterward we will expatiate on the most impor- 
tant points. Well, then, you saw Murat and Macdonald?” 

“ I did, your majesty. I met the King of Naples at Elbing, 
and had the honor of delivering your majesty’s letter to him. 
He received me very kindly, and was delighted at being thus 
assured of your friendly feelings toward France. Marshal 
Macdonald, to whose headquarters I then repaired, was less 
kind and polite. He was still exceedingly indignant at the 
course of General York, which he openly stigmatized as 
traitorous; but he was pacified when I informed him that I 
was the bearer of an order depriving York of his command, 
and was about to convey it to the camp of the Russians and 
Prussians.” 

“ He raised no obstacles, then, but allowed you to pass over 
without hinderance to the Russian camp?” 

“Yes, your majesty. While Macdonald continued his 
march, I rode to the Russian pickets, and was conducted by 
an officer, detailed by General Choplitz for this purpose, to 
the commander-in-chief, Prince Wittgenstein, who had estab- 
lished his headquarters at Heilsberg.” 

“ What business had you at Wittgenstein’s headquarters?” 

“ I wanted, in accordance with your orders, to ask his per- 
mission to pass through to General York; and, besides, I 
wished to ascertain where the Emperor Alexander had estab- 
lished his headquarters, that I might repair to them.” 

“Prince Wittgenstein, of course, gave you immediate per- 
mission to pass through his camp, did he not?” 

“No, your majesty; he refused my request.” 

“How so? What reasons could he adduce? Did you tell 
him what you intended to do at York’s headquarters?” 

“Your majesty ordered me to tell every one what I was to 
do at General York’s headquarters, and what punishment you 
intended to inflict upon him. I was therefore authorized 
and obliged to inform General Wittgenstein of the object of 
my mission.” 

“And he dared to resist you?” 

“ He did, your majesty. He declared that he would not 
permit me by any means to go to York, and that so long as 
he lived no one should bring to the general a dispatch by 


THE COURIER’S RETURN. 


209 


which the most generous, magnanimous, and valiant gen- 
eral of the Prussian army was to be deprived of his com- 
mand.” 

“ Then he really prevented you from going to York?” 

“ Yes, your majesty; he told me I was his prisoner, and did 
not permit me to leave him.” 

_ “ So that, at this moment, General York has not, as I de- 
sire, transferred his command to General Kleist?” 

“ Precisely, your majesty. General York is still in com- 
mand.” 

“ And he did not receive the order removing him from his 
position?” 

“ I was unable to deliver it, and your majesty required me 
to give it to none but the general himself. I was, however, 
a prisoner at General Wittgenstein’s. He asked me whether 
I had received other commissions; and when he heard that I 
was to deliver a letter to his majesty the emperor, he immedi- 
ately had a sleigh brought to the door, detailed an officer to 
escort me, and we set out for the imperial headquarters.” 

“ Let us speak of that hereafter,” said the king, quickly. 
“ Tell me first whether you have heard further news about my 
corps. General York, then, is still in command?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“ But even though he has not received the dispatches, he 
must have seen the news in the newspapers. For the Berlin 
journals contained a copy of the order superseding him, and 
he must have noticed it.” 

“I was told by General Wittgenstein, on returning from 
the headquarters of the Emperor of Russia, that York had 
been informed by the newspapers of the severe punishment 
which your majesty intended to inflict upon him, and that 
you disavowed him and the course he had taken. Accord- 
ingly, he requested General Kleist to take command of the 
troops. But Kleist refused to do so, alleging that he had re- 
ceived no direct orders from your majesty, and that the dis- 
patches of your majesty, addressed to him personally, would 
determine his course, and induce him to take command of 
the troops.” 

“ General Kleist was right in making this declaration,” said 
the king. “ So long as York had not received the dispatches, 
he remained commander-in-chief.” 

“He is still at the head of the army,” exclaimed Natzmer, 
“ for I bring back the dispatches addressed to Generals York 


210 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and Kleist. As I was unable to deliver them, I return them 
to your majesty.” 

The king took the papers which the major presented to 
him, contemplating them for a moment. He turned toward 
Hardenberg, and saw that heart-felt joy was beaming from 
his face. “ Are you glad that my orders have not been carried 
into effect, M. Chancellor of State?” asked the king. 

“Yes, your majesty,” said Hardenberg, in a voice tremu- 
lous with emotion, “ I am glad of it, for now it seems to me 
as if our night is drawing to a close, and a new morning is 
about to dawn upon Prussia. York took the first step for this 
purpose, and it will be necessary for your majesty to pursue 
the same course. For, as York has not been deprived of his 
command, the French will no longer believe that you disavow 
the action of your brave general, and your people and all Ger- 
many will take heart, for they will see that the era of dis- 
grace is past, and that a German king dares at length to resist 
the French tyrant.” 

“Well, we shall see,” said the king. “Now, Major Natz- 
mer, tell me about your mission to his majesty the Emperor 
Alexander. I told you that it was a state secret. Did you 
keep it?” 

“ I did, your majesty.” 

“ Well, tell me the result.” 

“Will your majesty permit me to withdraw?” said the 
chancellor, approaching the door. “ As you intrusted Major 
Natzmer with a secret mission — ” 

“ Oh, no, your excellency, pray remain ; I wish you to hear 
the message I sent to the emperor, and what he replied to it. 
— Answer my questions now, major. Did you carry out the 
commission I gave you? Did you verbally lay before the em- 
peror the message which I dared not confide to pen and paper? 
Did you tell the emperor that I would offer him a defensive 
and offensive alliance if Alexander would engage to carry on 
the war against Napoleon to the best of his power, and cross 
the Vistula and the Oder without delay? Did you make this 
offer to Alexander in my name?” 

“I did, your majesty.” 

The king glanced quickly at Hardenberg, and the surprised 
face of his chancellor of state made him smile. 

“And what did the emperor reply?” asked Frederick Will- 
iam, turning again to the major. 

“ The emperor was overjoyed at the offer, and declared his 


THE COURIER’S RETURN. 


211 


readiness to grant all which you would stipulate now and 
hereafter. The Emperor Alexander imposed only a single 
condition.” 

“ What was it?” 

“ He demanded that the fortress of Graudenz should he 
garrisoned by Russian troops, and insisted most obstinately 
on this point.” 

“ Did you not tell him that I had made up my mind in 
regard to this point, and would renounce the proposed alliance 
if Graudenz, the most remote fortress of my kingdom, should 
be garrisoned by other than Prussian troops?” 

“ I stated this to the emperor.” 

“And then?” 

“The emperor resolved to yield even this point, and to 
leave Graudenz to the Prussian troops.” 

A sunbeam seemed to light up the grave, calm face of the 
king, and the cloud that generally darkened his brow dis- 
appeared. “ M. Chancellor,” he said, turning to Hardenberg 
with a mild and kind smile, “ are you now reconciled with 
your Fabius Cunctator? Will you forgive me for having hesi- 
tated until Natzmer would bring me Alexander’s reply?” 

“ Oh, sire,” exclaimed Hardenberg, “ my soul bows in joyous 
admiration, and your greatness and mildness make me blush.” 

At this moment the door opened, and Kockeritz and Kalk- 
reuth entered the cabinet. 

“Ah,” exclaimed the king, meeting them, “my two gen- 
erals whom I sent out on a reconnoissance ! Well, gentlemen, 
speak! Did you find my carriage?” 

“We did, your majesty,” said Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, 
sighing. “ The report was but too true. A vile plot had been 
formed; we have the proofs, for we really found the carriage 
of your majesty in the avenue leading to Sans-Souci; the 
horses had been partially unhitched — ” 

“And my poor coachman?” asked the king. “Kockeritz, 
tell me what has become of my faithful Thomas?” 

“ We found him exactly in the condition stated in the spy’s 
report,” said General Kockeritz, hastily. “He lay in the 
interior of the carriage; his hands and feet firmly tied; his 
head covered with a cape, which had been closely fastened 
round his neck to prevent him from crying; it had, more- 
over, almost choked him when we arrived.” 

“But he has recovered from his fright?” asked the king, in 
a tone of sympathy. 


212 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Yes, your majesty,” said Kockeritz, “ and he would not per- 
mit Timm to accompany him to Sans-Souci. He felt strong 
enough to return to Potsdam, and arrived here at the same 
time as we did.” 

“ I suppose you have ordered him to say nothing about the 
whole affair?” 

“ Yes, your majesty, and he swore he would not mention 
it.” 

“And now, gentlemen, give me your opinion. Field- 
Marshal Kalkreuth, you have satisfied yourself now that the 
French really intended to seize and abduct me to-night?” 

“ I have unfortunately satisfied myself that they made such 
an attempt,” said the field-marshal. 

“And you, Kockeritz, believe so, too?” 

“I do, your majesty; I am fully convinced that such an 
outrage was in contemplation.” 

“And you, M. Chancellor of State?” 

“ I was confident of the existence of this plot before coming 
hither, and every thing has confirmed it ; yes, such an outrage 
was surely intended. The French meant to seize your sacred, 
person.” 

“ Will your majesty permit me also to reply to this ques- 
tion?” said Major Natzmer. 

“What do you mean?” asked the king, surprised. “Have 
you not just arrived? How can you pass an opinion on what 
occurred before your arrival?” 

“ Your majesty, it is true I have just now come ; but still I 
knew what was to occur here, and what an infamous trans- 
action was planned,” said Major Natzmer. “The Emperor 
Alexander gave me this information; he had just received 
from a perfectly reliable source the news that Marshal Auge- 
reau had been instructed to seize the person of your majesty. 
The emperor was greatly alarmed, and told me he would be 
unable to find any rest until he had heard that you were safe, 
and had left Berlin and Potsdam.* I myself set out at once 
in the greatest consternation, and as I left the emperor on the 
13th of January, I would have arrived here much earlier if 
I had not heard at Landshut that Murat had issued an order 
to all the authorities to have me arrested and conveyed to the 
French headquarters, f This compelled me to take a round- 
about course, and now I rejoice the more heartily as I have 


THE COURIER’S RETURN. 


213 


arrived at the very time to caution your majesty, in the name 
of the Emperor Alexander, against the insidious designs of 
the French.” 

The king made no reply. He paced the room slowly and 
with his head bent down ; the four gentlemen stood in silence 
on both sides of the cabinet. Suddenly standing in the mid- 
dle of the room, with his countenance full of determination, 
he said: “Gentlemen, I will tell you a state secret. Will 
you pledge me your word of honor, all four of you, that you 
will keep it?” 

“ We will!” they all shouted at the same moment. 

“Listen to me, then,” added the king. “I shall leave 
Potsdam and repair to Breslau, whither the seat of govern- 
ment will be temporarily transferred. All the necessary 
preparations must be made from this hour with the utmost 
dispatch and prudence. To-morrow night I shall set out with 
the crown prince ; the rest of the royal family will follow me 
on the next day. Troops will be stationed along the route ; 
tlie hussars forming my escort, and the lifeguards following to 
Breslau. It is my duty to place myself beyond the reach of 
insidious attacks, and to render it impossible for the French 
to seize me. I will, therefore, go to Breslau !” While utter- 
ing these words, the king glanced successively at the faces of 
the four gentlemen. He saw that Field-Marshal Kalkreuth 
looked gloomy and abstracted, and opposite him the chancellor 
of state, with burning cheeks and radiant eyes. 

“Well, Hardenberg,” said the king, mildly, “have you 
nothing to say to me?” 

“ I am unable to say any thing,” whispered Hardenberg, in 
a tremulous voice, “ but I do what I have not done for many 
years past — I weep tears of joy! Our night is at an end; a 
new morning is dawning upon Prussia, and the sun of a new 
era will shed his beams upon all of us!” 


THE VOLUNTEERS. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE MANIFESTO. 

The people were moving in dense crowds through Berlin. 
The long and splendid street “ Unter den Linden ” was filled 
with a vast multitude, whose greeting cheers resembled the 
noise of the ocean’s billows. 

“ The king has safely arrived at Breslau !” cried one of the 
men to another, and immediately the enthusiastic cry of 
“ Long live the king!” hurst from all those who heard it, and, 
like a jubilant echo, the people along the whole street re- 
peated, “Long live the king!” 

“ The king has reappointed General Scharnhorst quarter- 
master-general, and General Blucher is with him at Breslau !” 
exclaimed a stentorian voice. “ Long live Scharnhorst ! Long 
live Blucher!” shouted the crowd. “Long live our heroes!” 
“ Down with the French!” and thousands answered in tones 
of intense hatred, “ Down with the French!” 

“ They so long trampled us under foot!” cried another citi- 
zen. “ Now, let us pay them for it! Come, let us go to the 
French ambassador and give him a few groans! We will no 
longer be silent!” 

“Yes, we are determined to speak!” yelled the multitude, 
who hurried toward the gate in front of which the residence 
of the ambassador was situated. But suddenly they were 
stopped by a procession approaching from the Brandenburg 
gate. It was headed by three men — one of short and feeble 
frame, his face pale and emaciated, but lit up by large flash- 
ing blue eyes; the second was tall and broad-shouldered, his 
eye looking frank and bold, and his hair falling on his shoul- 
ders like a lion’s mane ; the third was not tall, but of a firmly- 
knit frame, and, with his proud head and intrepid air, looked 
like the embodiment of chivalry. Behind them was a line of 


THE MANIFESTO. 


215 


more than two hundred youths, in light, simple attire, their 
cheeks glowing with excitement or exercise, and their eyes 
flashing with enthusiasm. 

“Hurrah!” shouted the people. “Here are the Turners! 
Here is Father Jahn with his Turners! Long live Jahn!” 

The Turners, at a beck from “Father Jahn,” had taken 
position across the street, and thus, like a chain, prevented 
the citizens from passing on. The three leaders stood in 
front, and gazed gravely upon the approaching multitude. 

“ Clear the track !” cried the crowd. “We have business to 
attend to on the square in front of the gate!” 

“ Believe me, it is as I said,” whispered the smallest of the 
three men to his neighbor. “ It is a riot directed against the 
French ambassador!” 

“Where are you going?” shouted the man with the lion’s 
mane, pushing back those at the head, of the crowd with his 
herculean arms. 

“ We are going to the French ambassador, to sing him a new 
German song, and accompany it with stones for his windows.” 

“And why do you wish to do so?” asked the tall man. 
“ What do you care for the Frenchman on this beautiful and 
joyous day? Men like you have something else to do than to 
break the windows of the French ambassador. There will be 
other battles before long. I hope you have heard or read 
wliat great events have occurred; I hope you know the mes- 
sage which the king has sent to us from Breslau?” 

“No, we know nothing about them!” replied a few voices. 
“Yes, we do,” said others. “ But we would like to hear the 
news again,” cried another. “Pray, repeat it to us, Father 
Jahn!” 

“ I am not very well able to do so; our gymnastic perform- 
ances to-day have exhausted me,” replied Jahn. “ I went out 
of the gate with my pupils at an early hour in the morning. 
These two gentlemen came to us and told us the news, and 
that is the reason why we have come back. My friend will 
tell you what he told me, and he knows better how to speak 
than I do, for he has an eloquent tongue. This is well known 
to all of you, for who among you is not acquainted with Fred- 
erick Schleiermacher, the great preacher?” 

“ Schleiermacher ! Long live Schleiermacher ! Let Schlei- 
ermacher repeat to us what the king said ! Let him tell us 
what is on the large placards on the street corners. Hearing 
it read, we understand it better than on reading it ourselves.” 


216 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


And many arms were stretched out toward the feeble little 
man who stood by the side of Jahn, lifting him up and plac- 
ing him gently on the balcony fixed above the door of a neigh- 
boring house. 

“That is a good pulpit,” shouted the people; “ Schleier- 
macher, address us from it!” 

The little man with bright eyes and a genial countenance 
gazed for a moment in silence upon his auditors, who thronged 
around him in suspense and curiosity. He then raised his 
arms, commanding silence. The laughter, shouts, and yells, 
died away; all eyes were fixed upon Schleiermacher, and the 
noise of the multitude seemed arrested as by a magician’s 
wand, as the voice of the preacher resounded through the 
street clear and distinct. “ You want me to read what has 
been addressed to us all,” he said, “the manifesto which 
Minister von Hardenberg has issued to the people in the king’s 
name. Listen, then!” He took a large folded paper from 
his breast-pocket, and, opening it, read as follows: ‘“The 
dangerous position in which the state has been placed by 
recent events requires a rapid augmentation of the troops now 
in arms, while our finances admit of no lavish expenditures. 
In consideration of the patriotism and faithful attachment to 
the king which have always animated the people of Prussia, 
and manifested themselves most strikingly in times of danger, 
there is but an opportunity required to give a definite direc- 
tion to these sentiments, and to the desire for activity which 
distinguishes so many young men, that they may swell by 
their accession to the army the ranks of the older defenders of 
the country, whom they would emulate in nobly fulfilling the 
first of all duties incumbent upon us. For this reason his 
majesty has designed to order the organization of companies 
of volunteers, to be embodied with the regiments of infantry 
and cavalry already in the service, that an opportunity to 
enter the army in a manner suitable to their education, and 
their position in life, may be given to all those classes who, 
under the existing conscription laws, are exempt from service, 
and are rich enough to pay for their own outfit and horse, and 
that a prospect of distinguishing themselves may be held out 
to men who, owing to their education and intellect, might 
immediately do good service, and soon be appointed line and 
field officers. ’ * It is unnecessary for me to read the con- 

* Hardenberg issued this manifesto at Breslau, on the 3d of February; it was 
published at Berlin on the 5th. 


THE MANIFESTO. 


217 


elusion of the proclamation,” said Schleiermacher. “You 
know enough, for you know now that the king calls his peo- 
ple ; that he calls upon all the youths and men of his kingdom 
to rally round him, and that he requests, and does not order 
them to do so. The country is in danger; and not the king’s 
order, but your own voluntary action, is to make you soldiers 
of the fatherland and put arms into your hands. Remember 
that your free will is your most precious and sacred possession, 
and that he is twice a hero whom it actuates, and is not 
forced into duty. No greater honor can be conferred on you 
than that your country calls you, trusts in your strong arm, 
and hopes in your free will to save it from destruction. Take 
that into consideration, and decide then whether you will stay 
at home or obey the call.” 

The two men who had been by his side at the head of the 
procession, Jahn, the brave Turner, and the chivalrous La 
Motte Fouque, now ascended the balcony. 

“ I do not care to stay at home when my country calls me 
to Irr aid!” exclaimed M. de la Motte Fouqu6, in a loud, 
sonorous vocie. “ I joyfully offer my services as a soldier. I 
have a wife and children, but my country is to me more 
precious than they are, and I enroll here my name as the 
first volunteer who responds to the call of his king and 
country.” 

“ And I enroll my name as the second volunteer!” exclaimed 
Jahn, the Turners’ father. “ I swear here to my country 
that I will joyously fight for it. Henceforth, my blood and 
life belong to the fatherland. — And where are you, my boys, 
my Turners? Shall I march out all alone, or will you accom- 
pany me?” 

“ We will go with you !” cried a hundred youthful voices, 
and their enthusiastic shouts rent the sky. “ We will march 
with you! We will fight for the fatherland!” And the 
crowd, carried away by what they saw and heard — the men 
with tearful eyes, the youths with flashing glances — all 
shouted: “We will march with you! We will fight for the 
fatherland !” Neighbor gave his hand to neighbor, and friend 
embraced friend ; those who had never before seen each other 
understood the common feeling, and those who had never ex- 
changed a word conversed now like old acquaintances. One 
grand impulse seemed to move the multitude — one patriotic 
feeling beamed from all eyes — one vow burned in all hearts: 
to be faithful soldiers to their country. It was no mere tran- 
15 


218 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


sitory enthusiasm, soon to disappear, and to be succeeded by 
a corresponding reaction — it was no momentary ardor kindled 
by the manifesto issued at Breslau, but the sacred fire of 
patriotism burning in the heart of the whole people of Prus- 
sia, and increased from day to day. Every one felt himself a 
soldier, and would have considered it a disgrace to remain at 
home while others marched to the war of liberation. 

The pupils of the lyceums closed their books, and the 
teachers did not prevent them ; they only appeared in the 
school-rooms, to say to the half -grown youths: “Farewell! 
The country has called us ! Let us march to the field ! 
Those of you who have reached their seventeenth year, and 
are willing to fight, follow us!” And, with shouts of exulta- 
tion, the older youths rallied round their teachers, while the 
younger ones retired with tearful eyes, as if ashamed of their 
age. What occurred in the lyceum was repeated in the 
offices, the courts, the counting-houses of the bankers and 
merchants. No one would stay at home, or refuse the coun- 
try his arm and his strength. All selfish calculations, all 
distinctions of rank had ceased. Princes and counts were 
seen in the ranks of the volunteers by the side of the humblest 
youths; and poor men, who had sold every thing they had to 
buy arms and a uniform, did not think of their future, or 
what was to become of them after their return from the war. 
The fatherland had called them, and they voluntarily took up 
arms in its defence. Death had lost its terrors, life had lost 
its value. With exulting hearts, mothers saw their sons pre- 
paring for the struggle. The affianced bride uncomplainingly 
clasped her departing lover for the last time in her arms; 
without fear for the fate of his wife and children, the husband 
and father embraced his dear ones, and his wife did not at- 
tempt to dissuade him. She would have despised him if he 
desired to remain, and loved his wife and his children more 
devotedly than his country, calling to him in the hour of her 
peril. 

Four days had not yet elapsed since the publication of the 
manifesto of the king, when there stood on the Gendarmes 
market at Berlin one hundred and fifty young volunteers, 
who, within a few days, had fully armed and equipped them- 
selves, either from their own means, or with the assistance of 
friends, and who were now about to march to Potsdam in 
order to set out with a company of ninety volunteers, which 
had been recruited in that city for the king’s headquarters at 


THE MANIFESTO. 


210 


Breslau.* All Berlin wished to participate in the farewell of 
this first company of volunteers which were sent to its king. 
Every one desired once more to shake hands with the coura- 
geous defenders of the country — to shout a love-greeting, a last 
wish to them, and bless the soldiers of the fatherland. The 
windows of the houses on the Gendarmes market were there- 
fore filled with ladies and children, who greeted the departing 
volunteers with their handkerchiefs, with wreaths and flowers ; 
the church bells were ringing in their honor, and the fathers 
of the city, the burgomasters, and other members of the mu- 
nicipality, adorned with their golden chains, were assembled 
on the market-place to conduct the young soldiers, in the 
name of the city, to the gate, and behind them a dense multi- 
tude filled the square. Those remaining looked gloomy, and 
envied their brethren, because they were to take the field at 
so early a day; wishing them joy, they shouted: “Prepare 
quarters for us; we shall soon follow you!” 

The church bells were ringing, and amid their solemn peals 
and the deafening cheers of the many thousands who nodded 
to them in the streets, and from the windows of the houses, 
the young soldiers left the Gendarmes market, escorted by the 
members of the municipality. They did not, however, march 
directly to the Potsdam gate. They would not leave Berlin 
without receiving the blessing of the Church, and this was to 
be given by the man who read to them the manifesto four 
days before, and who had exhorted them to comply with the 
call of their country. A committee, appointed by the young 
volunteers, had therefore waited on Schleiermacher, and re- 
quested him to give the blessing of the Church to their grave 
undertaking, and he gladly granted their request. The pro- 
cession marched to Trinity church. There were waiting their 
mothers, sisters, and brides, greeting them with loving 
glances, and beckoning them to occupy the reserved places, 
embracing and praying hand in hand with them for the last 
time. The organ poured forth its solemn concords, and from 
all lips burst forth the anthem of “In alien meinen Thaten 
lass ich den Hochsten rathen.” f The last notes of the music 
had not yet died away, when the noble face of Schleiermacher 
appeared in the pulpit. His eyes were beaming as never be- 
fore; his voice was never so fervent and powerful, nor had he 

* Nine thousand young men volunteered at Berlin in the first three days after 
the manifesto was issued, and active preparations were made to uniform and equip 
them at the earliest moment. 

+ “ In all my deeds. I let the Highest counsel. ” 


220 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ever spoken with such irresistible eloquence, energy, and 
courage, as on that day. A profound silence reigned in the 
vast building; every one listened eagerly to the inspiring 
words of the prophet of a new and better era, and inwardly 
resolved to remember the stirring exhortations which Schleier- 
macher now, in concluding his sermon, addressed to the young 
men, that they may remain pure and true in the service of 
so righteous a cause. The thoughts of the audience were 
with God; to Him their hearts had all turned. But now 
Schleiermacher’s voice grew softer; his eyes, which had 
hitherto been raised toward heaven, looked upon the wives 
and mothers, who sat in long lines before him. “ Rejoice in 
the Lord, ye mothers,” he said, “blessed are you in having 
given birth to such sons ! blessed your breasts that nourished 
such children ! God gave them to you, and you give them to 
the fatherland! Rejoice in the Lord, for He will achieve 
great things through them! Rejoice, and do not weep!” 
But now they could restrain no longer their tears and sobs. 
The words addressed to them had touched their feelings. 
They felt their hearts’ wounds, and wept aloud. An electric 
shock, as it were, pervaded the whole assembly; not an eye 
remained dry, not a heart was unmoved; even Schleier- 
macher’s voice was tremulous when he uttered his “Amen!” 

They departed from the church to the Potsdam gate, and 
along the road leading to Potsdam, continuing their march 
on the following day, after being joined by the company 
which La Motte Fouque had recruited in that city. The 
grief of their separation from their dear ones was forgotten as 
they hastened toward the future — a future of battles and 
victories. 

“Now, no more tears, no more sighs! Let us sing a merry 
song!” said the young volunteers. 

“ Yes. Where is a poet who can sing us a song such as we 
need now?” 

“Fouque is here; let him sing! Yes, Fouque is among 
us! We have elected him captain! He is a chivalrous sol- 
dier, and gained his spurs in 1794, during the war against the 
French. He deserves to be our captain!” 

“But he deserves, too, to be our bard, for by his ‘Undine’ 
he has also won his laurels as a poet.” 

“Let us have a song, brave La Motte Fouque!” shouted all 
the volunteers. “ There is Father Jahn, who will persuade 
him. Ask Fouque to sing us a war-song!” 


THE MANIFESTO. 


221 


Jalm galloped up to the poet, who was riding in thoughtful 
silence at the head of his company; it is true, he had heard 
the solicitations of the young men, but continued his way, 
smiling and muttering to himself. “ Fouque,” shouted Jahn, 
in his stentorian voice; “do you not hear the requests of our 
bold youths? Give some expression to the enthusiasm burn- 
ing in their hearts. Let us have a song, then, my poet!” 

“Well,” replied Fouque, quickly raising his head, and 
smiling on his friend; “I have just composed a poem. Lis- 
ten to me, my friends!” He turned his horse, and in a 
loud voice commanded the volunteers to halt. 

“You wish me to sing. I will give you a song just as it 
has sprung up in my heart during the march, and I have also 
composed the air. When I have finished repeat it with me!” 
And he began to sing in a powerful voice : 


“ Frisch auf zum frohlichen Jagen, 

Es ist schon an der Zeit ! 

Es fiingt schon an zu tagen, 

Der Kampf ist nicht mehr weit ! 

“Auf lasst die Faulen iiegen, 

G5nnt ihnen ihre Ruh ; 

Wir riicken mit Vergniigen 
Dem lieben Konig zu. 

“ Der Konig hat gesprochen: 

W r o sind meine Jager nun? 

Da sind wir aufgebrochen, 

Ein wackeres Werk zu thun. 

“Wir woll’n ein Heil erbauen 
Fur all das deutsche Land, 

Im frohen Gottvertrauen 
Mit riistig starker Hand. 

“ Schlaft ruhig nun. Ihr Lieben ! 

Am vaterlichen Heerd, 

Derweil mit Feindeshieben 
Wir ringen Keck bewehrt. 

“ O Wonne die zu schiitzen, 

Die uns das Liebste sind ! 

Hei ! Lasst Kanonen blitzen, 

Ein frommer muth gewinnt ! 

“ Die mehrsten zieh’n einst wieder 
Zuriick in Siegerreih’n ; 

Dann tonen Jubellieder 
Dess’ wird’ne Freude sein ! 

“ Wie gliih’n davon die Herzen 
So f roh und stark und weich. 

Wer fallt, der kann’s verschmerzen, 

Der hat das Himmelreich 1 ” * 

* La Motte Fouqu6 composed this poem on the march from Potsdam to Breslau, 
whither he conducted the first companies of volunteers. It was the first song of 
liberty published in 1813: 

Mount ! mount ! for sacred freedom fight ! 

The battle soon must be. 


222 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

LEONORA PROHASKA. 

Old Sergeant Prohaska sat sad and musing in his old easy- 
chair near the stove; before him lay a copy of the Vossische 
Zeitung, which he had just perused. He laid it aside with a 
sigh ; supporting his head on the leathern cushion, he puffed 
clouds of smoke from his short clay pipe. Close to him, at 
the small table standing in the niche of the only window 
which admitted light into the small, dark room, sat a young 
girl, busily engaged in drawing threads from a large piece of 
linen, and putting them carefully on the pile of lint on the 
table. She was scarcely eighteen years old, but her noble, 
pale countenance wore an expression of boldness and energy ; 
her forehead was high, and vigorous thoughts seemed to dwell 
there. Large black eyes were flashing under her finely-arched 
eyebrows, which almost touched each other above her beauti- 
fully-chiselled, slightly-curved nose. Round her crimson lips 
was an expression of melancholy, and her cheeks seemed to 


The night is past, and red the light 
Streams o’er the dewy lea. 

Up ! let the coward idlers sleep ! 

Who envies them their rest ? 

We march with joyful hearts to keep 
Our honored king’s request. 

To us he said : “ My brave ones all !— 
My chasseurs ! where are they ? ” 

Responsive to his patriot call 
We hastened to obey. 

We vowed to strike with mighty hand 
As it becomes the free — 

A safeguard for our native land 
With Heaven’s grace to be. 

Sleep calmly, wives and children dear ! 
To God your sorrows tell. 

The hour, alas ! of blood is near, 

But all your fears dispel. 

Approved we hasten to the field ; 

What though the strife begins ! 

’Tis joy our loved ones thus to shield, 
For pious courage wins. 

Returning, all may not be found 1 
But some, in glory’s grave, 

Shall never hear the songs resound 
Of those they died to save. 

Come, glowing heart ! despise the pain 
Of death ; for, evermore, 

Shall he who falls, a kingdom gain 
On heaven’s eternal shore 1 


LEONORA PROHASKA. 


223 


have been bleached by grief rather than sickness. She was 
tall and well formed, but her whole appearance was more 
remarkable for the stern and heroic character it indicated 
than for grace and loveliness. While she was thus at work, 
and engaged in preparing lint, troubled thoughts seemed to 
pass from time to time across her face, and she raised her 
eyes to heaven with an angry and reproachful expression. She 
impulsively cast aside the linen, and jumped up. “No, 
father,” she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath, “I cannot 
bear it any longer!” 

“What is it that you cannot bear any longer, Leonora?” 
exclaimed her father, surprised. 

“ To sit here and prepare lint while the whole world is astir, 
while every heart is swelling with patriotism and warlike en- 
thusiasm! And I cannot do any thing, I cannot join in the 
universal exultation — I can do nothing but prepare lint! 
Father, it is heart-rending, and I cannot bear it!” 

“Must not I bear it?” asked her father in a tremulous 
voice. “ Must not I sit still behind the stove, while all my 
old comrades are taking up arms and marching into the field? 
My right leg was buried at Jena, and I must limp about now 
as a miserable cripple; I cannot even take revenge for the 
disgrace of Jena; I cannot even pay the French for my leg by 
cutting off the heads of some of their accursed soldiers. I am 
a cripple, while others are hastening into the field ! When 1 
must bear that, a girl like you ought assuredly not to 
complain.” 

“ Father,” said Leonora, with flashing eyes, “ do not despise 
me because I am a girl ! Did you not tell me of the heroic 
women of Spain and the Tyrol, and of their glorious deeds? 
Did you not tell me that, by their intrepid patriotism, they 
had set a sublime example to the men, and that by their in- 
fluence their country was to be saved? Was not the heroine 
of Saragossa a woman? Did not women and girls fight like 
heroes in the gorges of the Tyrol?” 

“Yes, that is true,” exclaimed her father, smiling, “but 
then they were Spanish and Tyrolese girls. They have fire 
in their veins, and love their country with an undying 
patriotism.” 

“Ah, one need not be born in the South to have warm 
blood,” exclaimed Leonora, ardently. “It is not the sun that 
gives love of country, and patriotic hearts may throb even 
under the snow.” 


224 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Have you such a heart, Leonora?” asked her father, cast- 
ing on her a long and searching look. 

“ Father, ” she said, pressing her hands on her bosom, 
“there is something burning here like fire; and at times 
when I hear how all are rallying round the flag — and how the 
warlike enthusiasm is pervading the whole country, I feel as 
if the blood would burst from my heart and head. It is true 
I am no Spanish girl, but I am a Prussian girl!” 

“ Ah, I would you were a Prussian boy!” sighed her father, 
shaking his head. “ If you were, I believe you would look 
well in the ranks of the volunteers; they would not likely 
reject the young soldier of eighteen.” 

“I am quite tall and strong, although I am hut a girl,” 
exclaimed Leonora, with flashing eyes; “I have seen among 
the soldiers who started yesterday many volunteers who were 
a great deal shorter and slighter than I am.” 

“ But, at all events, they had shorter hair and a stronger 
voice than you have,” laughed her father. 

“Oh, I can cut off my hair,” she said, quickly; “and as 
for my voice, Kalbaum, the tailor, who accompanied the 
volunteers, has a voice no stronger than mine, and yet he was 
accepted. And then — •” 

“Hush!” interposed her father quickly. “I hear your 
mother coming. Do not speak of such things when she is 
present. It would alarm her. Bold thoughts must be locked 
up in our hearts, for, if we speak of them, it looks like brag- 
gadocio ; we are only allowed to speak of bold deeds. Do not 
forget that, my daughter, and give me a kiss!” Leonora has- 
tened to her father, and encircling him with her arms, pressed 
a glowing kiss on the lips of the old invalid. 

“Father,” she whispered, “I believe you understand me, 
and can read my thoughts!” 

“God alone is able to read our thoughts,” said her father, 
solemnly, “ and it is only from Him that we must not conceal 
any thing. But what is that? Is not your mother weeping 
outside?” And old Prohaska jumped up and limped, as 
quickly as his wooden leg permitted, toward the door. 

At this moment the door was noisily opened, and a woman 
appeared on the threshold. Behind her was a tall, slender, 
and pale boy, scarcely fourteen years of age. Both entered 
the room with tearful eyes and loud lamentations. 

“ Wife, what is the matter— -what has happened?” exclaimed 
Old Prohaska, anxiously. 


LEONORA PROHASKA. 


225 


“Why do you weep, my brother?” asked Leonora, hasten- 
ing to the boy, and clasping him in her arms. He laid his 
head on her breast and wept aloud. 

“ What has happened?” wailed his mother. “All our hopes 
are blasted; we have been rejected!” 

“Rejected? Where? And by whom?” asked the invalid, 
in amazement. 

“By the military commission!” cried his wife, drying her 
tears with her long apron. 

“ What did you want of the military commission? Did you 
desire to become a vivandiere , old woman?” 

“ No, but Charles wanted to enlist, father! Yes, you must 
know all now. We thought we would prepare a joyous sur- 
prise for you, but the good Lord and the military commission 
would not let us do so. Look, old man ! I perceived very 
well how painful it was to you, and how it was gnawing at 
your heart, that your wooden leg compels you to remain here 
at Potsdam, and prevents your marching out with the soldiers 
who are hurrying to the headquarters of their king at 
Breslau.” 

“Yes, it is true, it is very sad! My general, old Blucher, 
under whom I fought in 1806, is also at Breslau, and what 
will he say when he looks for his old hussars of 1806, and 
does not find Prohaska! He will say, ‘Prohaska has become 
a coward — a lazy old good-for-nothing. ’ ” 

“No, father, he will not say so,” exclaimed Leonora, 
ardently; “if he knows you, he cannot say so. — But speak, 
mother, tell us what makes you weep, and what has so afflicted 
my dear brother?” 

“Both of us noticed father’s secret grief, and compre- 
hended how painful it was for him to be unable to participate 
in the war,” said her mother. “I had not mentioned it to 
any one, and to God alone I had complained how grievous it 
is that I have no full-grown son, who, instead of his father, 
might serve his king at the present time. Last night, when 
all of you were asleep, Charles came to my bedside. ‘Mother, ’ 
he said to me, ‘mother, I must tell you something! I will 
and must enlist! It would be an eternal disgrace for me to 
stay at home, particularly as father is disabled, and cannot 
fight any more. Mother, the honor of the family is at stake ; 
I must enlist or die!’ ” 

“Ah, you are a true brother of mine,” exclaimed Leonora, 
with a radiant face, drawing the boy closer to her heart. 


226 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“And what did you reply to Charles, mother?” asked the 
invalid. 

‘“You are my only son, and my heart would break if I 
should lose you. But you are right; it would be a disgrace 
for our whole family if it did not furnish a single soldier to 
the king and the fatherland, and if no substitute should enlist 
in your father’s place, and revenge him on the French for 
crippling him at Jena. I will go with you to the military 
commission to-morrow, and we will pray the gentlemen to 
accept you, although you are still under age. We will pray 
them until they overlook your youth and enroll your name. 
But say nothing about it to father until we have been success- 
ful ; then, tell him all. ’ ” 

“And you really went with him to the commission?” asked 
the old man, hastily. 

His wife responded by nodding and sighing, and burst 
again into tears. 

“Yes, father,” exclaimed the boy, raising his head from 
Leonora’s shoulder, and drying his eyes with an angry ges- 
ture, “ we went to the military commission. We begged, im- 
plored, and wept ! It was all in vain ! They said they were 
not allowed to accept boys of fourteen ; I was too young, and 
looked too feeble. In our despair we went to Eylert, the 
preacher, and begged him to intercede for me. He is always 
kind to me, and often praises me for my industry in prepar- 
ing for confirmation. I revealed my whole heart to him ; I 
told him I must consider myself disgraced, if now, that every 
one who is not a coward is taking the sword, I am compelled 
to go to school. I told him I should not dare to raise my 
eyes, and should think all the inhabitants would point with 
their fingers at me ; the children in the streets would deride 
me, and the old men would contemptuously avert their heads 
when I passed them.” 

“Ah, my beloved brother,” exclaimed Leonora, enthusias- 
tically, “hitherto I have loved you as a child, but henceforth 
I shall love as a hero!” 

“But it was all in vain,” cried Charles, sobbing aloud in 
his grief and anger. “ Even M. Eylert could not give us any 
comfort. He said it was impossible for the commission to 
accept me, for, though they overlooked my youth and my 
somewhat feeble health, they could not enroll me because I 
had not yet been confirmed. But as we begged so very hard, 
and shed so many tears, M. Eylert had at last pity on me, and 


LEONORA PROHASKA. 


227 


went with us once more to the military commission. But it 
was of no avail. I am under age and have no certificate of 
confirmation, and M. Eylert’s intercession was fruitless.* 
They rejected me! Father, what am I to do now? I am 
doomed to remain here at Potsdam, with my tall figure, which 
will charge me with cowardice in the eyes of every one, while 
my schoolmates, who are much shorter than I am, are allowed 
to enlist and fight for their country. Oh, mother, why am I 
not your eldest child? Then I should be preserved from the 
disgrace of running about as a coward, or of being obliged to 
have my certificate of birth constantly in my pocket!” 

“ My brother,” said Leonora, laying her strong white hand 
on her brother’s light hair, “if I could give you the four 
years by which I am older than you, I would do so, though it 
should cost me my life, for I comprehend your grief. But I 
am innocent of your affliction, and I pray you, therefore, not 
to be angry with me. It was God’s will that I should be 
older, and have your place. You must take into consider- 
ation that the war may last a long time; six months hence 
you will be confirmed, and then it will be time for you to 
enlist in the king’s army, and fight for liberty. Besides, my 
dear brother, it is not even settled yet whether all these war- 
like preparations are really intended for France. To be sure, 
every one is in hope that such is the case, but as yet no one is 
sure of it, for the king has not declared his intentions, and 
he is still at peace with France.” 

“No, the king has declared his intentions,” cried Charles, 
impetuously. “ And that is exactly what causes my distress 
and my despair. It is certain now that there will be war with 
France. You do not know, then, what has occurred?” 

“No,” exclaimed father and daughter at the same time, 
“ we do not — we have not yet seen any one. Tell us the news, 
Charles.” 

“ Well, we heard already at the office of the military com- 
mission that a courier had just arrived from Breslau, and 
brought a proclamation, addressed by the king to his people; 
they said it had immediately been sent to the printing-office, 
and was to be posted on all the street corners. The courier, 
besides, brought the news that the Emperor of Russia had 
arrived at Breslau, and that the first visit was to Baron von 
Stein, who secretly lived at Breslau.” 

“Hurrah!” shouted old Prohaska. “ Prussia is safe now, 

* Eylert, “ Frederick William III.,” vol. ii., p. 160. 


228 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


for Baron von Stein is back again, and be will know bow to 
expel Napoleon and his French from the country. Where 
Minister von Stein is he tolerates no French, and that is the 
reason why Bonaparte hates him, and has always been afraid 
of him. My boy, this is glorious news! Stein is back again; 
now we shall be all right! Have you any other news?” 

“ Yes, there is a great deal yet, father, but the tears burst 
from my eyes when I think of it, because I am unable to par- 
ticipate in the struggle.” 

“ Oh, what is it?” begged Leonora. “ What else has hap- 
pened at Breslau?” 

“Well,” said Charles, in a tremulous and melancholy voice, 
“ the courier reports that many hundreds of volunteers are 
arriving every day, not only from all parts of Prussia, but the 
whole of Germany, and that the city is rejoicing as though a 
festival were to be celebrated, and not as though we were on 
the eve of a terrible war. Above all, there is Major von 
Liitzow, round whose standard hosts of young men are rally- 
ing, enlisting a corps of volunteer riflemen, to whom he has 
given the name of ‘The Legion of Vengeance.’ They are to 
wear a black uniform as sign of the sorrow and disgrace that 
have weighed down the fatherland since 1806, and which they 
intend to avenge before discarding it. ” 

“ Oh, that is a grand idea,” exclaimed Leonora, with flash- 
ing eyes. “ To march out in mourning — to rush to the battle- 
field like angels of death and shout, ‘We are the legion of 
avengers, sent by Prussia to atone for her disgrace! Our 
uniform is black, but we intend to dye it red in the blood of 
the French!’ And then to fight exultantly in the thickest of 
the fray for the fatherland, and for our queen, whose heart 
was broken by the national dishonor and wretchedness! Oh, 
it must be blissful, indeed, to march with that legion to 
avenge the tears of Queen Louisa, and — ” 

“But Leonora!” cried her mother, staring in amazement 
at the young girl who stood before her with glowing cheeks, 
panting bosom, and uplifted right arm, as if she had just 
drawn the sword — “ but, Leonora ! what is the matter with 
you? What does your impulsiveness mean? Has Charles in- 
fected you with his enthusiasm? Do you want to increase the 
excitement and despair of the poor boy? He cannot join the 
‘Legion of Venegance;’ he cannot be one of Liitzow ’s riflemen !” 

“No,” said Leonora, vehemently and almost triumphantly, 
“Ae cannot be one of Liitzow’s riflemen!” 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


229 


“ Leonora!” cried her father, in a warning tone, “ Leonora, 
what are you saying?” 

She started and dropped her arm. “ It is true,” she mut- 
tered to herself, “ we should not betray our thoughts ; God 
alone must know them.” 

Her father limped to her, and, laying his hands on her 
shoulder, looked into her excited and glowing face. “ Come, 
my daughter,” he said, “ let us go out into the street and read 
what the king says to his people. For I believe the king’s 
proclamation must have been printed by this time. Come, 
Leonora!” 

“ No, it is unnecessary for you to go into the street for that 
purpose, father,” said Charles, “we have brought a copy of 
the proclamation ; the man who was to post them gave us one 
for you, saying it would no doubt gladden your heart. Where 
did you leave it, mother?” 

“I put it into my pocket. Here it is!” said the mother, 
taking a large printed sheet from the pocket hanging under 
her apron. “There, father, read it.” 

The old man took the paper and handed it to Leonora. 
“ Read it to us, my child,” he said, tenderly. “ I like best to 
hear from your lips what the king says to his people.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

JOAN OF ORLEANS. 

Leonora took the paper and read as follows, with crimson 
cheeks, and her heart aglow with enthusiasm : 

“ To my People ! — I need not state the causes of the impend- 
ing war either to' my faithful people or to the Germans in 
general. Unprejudiced Europe is fully aware of them. We 
succumbed to the superior strength of France. The peace 
which wrested from me one-half of my subjects, did not confer 
any blessings upon us, but inflicted deeper wounds upon us 
than war itself. The enemy was bent on exhausting the re- 
sources of the country; the principal fortresses remained in 
his hands; agriculture was paralyzed, and so were the manu- 
factures of our cities, which had formerly reached so proud an 
eminence; trade was everywhere obstructed, and the sources 
of prosperity were thus almost entirely ruined. The country 
was rapidly impoverished. By the most conscientious fulfil- 


230 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ment of the engagements I had taken upon myself, I hoped to 
mitigate the onerous burdens imposed upon my people, and 
to convince the French emperor at length that it was to his 
own advantage to leave Prussia in the enjoyment of her in- 
dependence; but my best intentions were foiled by arrogance 
and perfidy; and we saw only too plainly that Napoleon’s 
treaties, even more than his wars, would slowly and surely 
ruin us. The moment has come when all deceptions have 
ceased. Brandenburgians, Prussians, Silesians, Pomeranians, 
Lithuanians! you know what you have suffered for seven 
years past ; you know what your fate would be if we should 
not succeed in the struggle about to begin. Remember the 
history of the past; remember the noble elector; the great and 
victorious Frederick ; remember what our ancestors conquered 
with their blood — freedom of conscience, honor, independence, 
commerce, industry, and science; remember the great exam- 
ples of our powerful allies, especially the Spaniards and the 
Portuguese. Even smaller nations, for the same blessings, 
entered into a desperate struggle with more powerful foes, and 
achieved a glorious victory. Remember the heroic Swiss and 
Dutch. Great sacrifices will be required of all classes, for our 
undertaking is a great one, and the numbers and resources of 
our enemies are not to be underrated. You will prefer to 
make these sacrifices for the fatherland and your legitimate 
king rather than for a foreign ruler, who, as is proved by 
many examples, would devote your sons and your last re- 
sources to objects entirely foreign to you. Confidence in God, 
courage, perseverance, and the assistance of our allies, will 
crown our honest exertions with victory. But whatever sac- 
rifices may be required, they are not equivalent to the sacred 
objects for which we make them, and for which we must fight 
and conquer, if we do not wish to cease being Prussians and 
Germans. It is the last, decisive effort which we make for 
our existence, our independence, our prosperity. There is no 
other issue than an honorable peace or a glorious overthrow. 
You would not shrink even from the latter, for honor’s sake. 
But we may confidently hope for the best. God and our firm 
determination will make us victorious, and we shall then 
obtain peace and the return of happier times. 

“Frederick William. 

“Breslau, March 17, 1813.”* 

* This proclamation was drawn up by Counsellor von Hippel, who proposed that the 
kinj? should apply to his people directly, and call upon them to rise against the French. 
He communicated it to the chancellor of state at one of the conferences held every 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


231 


A pause ensued when Leonora ceased reading. Her father, 
who was standing by her side, and was supporting his hands 
on his crutch, heard her with a very grave face. Her mother 
sank down on one of the cane chairs, and listened devoutly, 
her hands clasped, and her eyes turned toward heaven ; while 
her son, who was sitting by her side, leaned his arms on the 
table, and buried his face in his hands. 

“ Is that all?” asked the invalid, after a while. “ I should 
really like to hear more of it, for it sounds as sacred as a 
church organ. Did you read it all, Leonora?” 

“No, father, there is still another manifesto. It is printed 
under the one I read to you. You yourself must read it, for 
my heart is throbbing as if about to burst. In his second 
manifesto the king orders a Tandwehr’ and a ‘landsturm’ to 
be formed. Listen to what he says at the end of this second 
manifesto: ‘My cause,’ he says, ‘is the cause of my people, 
and of all patriots in Europe. ’ ” 

“Yes, he is right,” said old Prohaska; “the king’s cause is 
our cause!” 

“Queen Louisa died for us all,” exclaimed Leonora; “we 
should all join the Legion of Vengeance — that is, to avenge 
her death !” 

“And I — I cannot do any thing,” wailed Charles, raising 
his face, which was bathed in tears, and lifting up his hands 
as if supplicating God to help him. “ I must wait and sutler 
here ; I am doomed to remain a boy while my school-fellows 
have become men.” 

“ Hush,” said his mother, “ an idea strikes me ; we may, after 
all, be somewhat useful to our country, though we are unable 
to furnish soldiers for it. There is a great deal to be done 
besides fighting. The king’s manifesto says expressly: ‘Great 
sacrifices will be required of all classes.’ Well, then, my dear 
ones, let us make sacrifices for the fatherland and our king!” 

“ What sacrifices do you mean, mother?” asked the invalid. 
“ What have we, if we cannot furnish any soldiers?” 

“ We have our labor,” exclaimed his wife, with pride. 
“When there is war, and battles are fought, there are 
wounded soldiers, I suppose?” 

“Of course, and cripples, too,” said the invalid, pointing 
to his wooden leg. 

evening at Breslau, at Hardenberg’s rooms, in presence of Gneisenau, Scharnhorst, 
Thile, and a few others. Hardenberg and all the rest approved it, and so cli l the lqng, 
when it was laid before him on the following day.— Vide Hippel’s work on the Late 
of Frederick William III.,'” p. 63. 


232 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ And the wounded are brought home and conveyed to the 
hospitals, are they not? Who is to attend to them, to dress 
their wounds, give them food, and nurse them? We women 
will do so! That is our task! I will nurse the first wounded 
brought to Potsdam. The first maimed soldier, however, 
whom I meet at the hospital, and whose right leg has been 
amputated as that of my dear husband, we shall take to our 
house. You may nurse him here, old man ; console him and 
show him that he may live quite happily, though with but 
one leg, and that wife and children will love their husband 
and father no less ardently, provided he is a true man, and 
has a courageous heart.” 

“You are right, mother,” exclaimed Prohaska. “Let us 
take a wounded soldier into our house, and I will nurse him 
as a brother, teaching him how to use his wooden leg, while 
you are at the hospital, attending to the other sufferers. But 
you have not thought of the children. What are Leonora and 
Charles to do while we are thus engaged?” 

“ They can help us,” said his wife, quickly. “ Leonora will 
have a great deal to do. She will prepare lint, make nourish- 
ing soups, wash bandages, and sew shirts and clothing.” 

The invalid cast a quick glance on Leonora. She stood, 
drawn up to her full height, in the middle of the room ; a 
proud, contemptuous smile was playing about her lips, which 
uttered no word in reply to her mother’s plans. 

“But what will Charles do?” asked Prohaska, quickly. 
“ He cannot be as useful as his sister.” 

“Father!” ejaculated Leonora, somewhat reproachfully. 

“Hush!” he said, almost sternly, “mother is right; it 
behooves you women to prepare lint, cook soups, nurse the 
wounded, and sew shirts for them. But war itself is the task 
of the men. But, my wife, before telling me what Charles is 
to do for our wounded, I must ask a very sad question. 
Where shall we find money for the expenses we shall have to 
incur? We are unfortunately poor, dependent on the labor 
of our hands. This small house and my pension of three dol- 
lars a month constitute our whole fortune, and if you were 
not the most skilful hair-dresser in Potsdam — if I could not 
besides earn a few dollars by making baskets, and if Leonora 
were not the best seamstress in town, I should like to know 
how we could live and send Charles to the Lyceum. But if 
were are to nurse the wounded, and devote our labor to them 
alone, we shall unfortunately soon lack the necessaries of life.” 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


233 


“ I have thought of all that, husband,” said his wife, 
eagerly. “ But, listen to me! Charles wants also to have his 
share in our sacrifices, he does not intend to be idle while all 
are at work to promote the welfare of the country. As he 
cannot enlist and fight, he must use his head. He will, there- 
fore, publish this advertisement: ‘As I have unfortunately 
been rejected by the military commission on account of my 
youth, and because I have not yet been confirmed, I request 
generous patriots to allow me to give private lessons to their 
children, that I may earn a sufficient sum to nurse and sup- 
port a wounded soldier till his complete recovery.’ ” 

“Yes, I will do that!” exclaimed Charles. “The citizens 
will learn then why I have not enlisted, and I shall, moreover, 
be able to earn money for the country. I shall certainly get 
pupils, for my teachers are pleased with me, and I am already 
in the first class. I can give lessons in Latin, Greek, mathe- 
matics, and history; I have good testimonials, and, for the 
sake of the noble object I have in view, parents will assuredly 
intrust their children to me, and pay me well for my trouble.” 

“All of you will have employment, then,” said Leonora, 
“ and your labor will benefit the country. But I also want to 
render myself useful to the country.” 

“Well, you can assist me,” said her mother; “you can pre- 
pare food, wash, and sew shirts.” 

“ However industrious I might be, mother, I could in that 
way earn only as much as my own support would cost,” said 
Leonora, shaking her head. “ I can be of no use to you, I am 
superfluous; I will go therefore to another place, where I can 
render myself useful and make money.” 

“ But whither do you intend to go, and what do you wish 
to do?” asked her mother in amazement, while her father 
cast searching glances upon her. 

“ To Berlin, and seek a situation as saleswoman,” said Leo- 
nora. “ What money I earn I shall send to you, and you will 
spend it for your wounded soldier. You know, mother, my 
godfather, Rudolph Werkmeister, who is a merchant at Ber- 
lin, has often asked me to go to see him, and take such a 
situation at his house. I have always refused, because I did 
not like to leave you, but thought I would stay with you and 
devote my whole life to nursing you ; but God has decreed 
otherwise. Yesterday my godfather wrote again, stating that 
his wife had been taken sick, and that he was greatly embar- 
rassed because he had no one at his house on whom he could 
16 


234 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


depend. He offers me a salary of eighty dollars a year. 
Now, I pray yon, dear parents, let me go! Let me pursue 
my own paths, and do my duty as I understand it. Dear 
mother, I am sure you will not refuse your consent? You 
will permit me to go this very day to Berlin, and make money 
for our wounded soldiers?” 

“I will, my child,” said her mother, her voice trembling 
with emotion. “ I have no diamonds and golden chains to 
give my country, so I give to it the most precious and beauti- 
ful jewels I have — my children. Yes, go, my Leonora; take 
the situation offered you, and give the money you earn to the 
fatherland and its soldiers.” 

“Oh, thanks, mother!” exclaimed Leonora, hastening to 
her and clasping her in her arms — “thanks, for permitting 
me to put my mite on the altar of the country!” She kissed 
her mother with fervent tenderness, and then turned toward 
her father. “And you, father,” she said, in a low and almost 
timid tone — “ you do not say a word — you do not give your 
consent.” 

The invalid stood leaning on his crutch, and looked 
thoughtfully into the noble face of his daughter. He then 
slowly raised his right hand and laid it on Leonora’s shoul- 
der. “ I repeat what your mother said. Like her, I have no 
treasures to give my country except this jewel, my Leonora! 
Go, my daughter ! — do what you believe to be your duty, and 
may God bless you !” Opening his arms, she threw herself 
into them and leaned her head on his breast. 

“And now,” said Prohaska, gently disengaging himself 
from a long and tearful embrace, “ let us be calm. These are 
the first tears I have wept since the death of our dear Queen 
Louisa — the first for your sake, my Leonora! May the Lord 
forgive them to a poor father who has but one daughter ! The 
heart will yield to its emotions, but now I must again be a 
soldier, who knows no tears!” 

“But, husband, Leonora will not leave us immediately,” 
said her mother. “ She must remain yet a day with us. 
Alas! we discover what treasures we possessed only when we 
lose them. I believe I have never loved Leonora so intensely 
as I do at this hour, and my heart is unable to part with her 
so suddenly. I must first accustom myself to the separation, 
and engrave her image upon my soul, that I may never forget 
her dear features. Let her stay, then, until to-morrow!” 

The invalid gravely shook his head. “No,” he said; 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


235 


“what is to be done must be done at once; otherwise, our 
hearts will grow weak, and our tears soften our resolutions. 
To-day I can permit Leonora to leave us; whether I shall be 
able to do so to-mororw, I do not know.” 

“Father, the stage-coach starts for Berlin in two hours, 
and I shall take passage in it!” exclaimed Leonora, quickly. 
“ You are right, what is to be done must be done now, and 
when we . have taken a resolution, we must not hesitate to 
carry it into effect. I will go to my chamber and pack my 
trunk.” 

“I will go and help you,” said her mother, hastening 
toward the door, and leaving the room with Leonora. 

“And I will write my advertisement,” said Charles. “It 
must be published to-morrow, that I am obliged to stay here 
because my country will not accept me as a soldier, and that 
I desire to give private lessons, the proceeds of which are to 
be devoted to the support of a wounded soldier.” 

“And I — -what shall I do?” asked the old invalid, when he 
was alone. “ I must swallow my tears, and tell no one my 
thoughts. I shall quietly accustom myself to the idea that 
the darling of my heart, my Leonora, is to leave me, and that 
my old eyes are to see no more her dear face, or my ears hear 
her voice. Ah, when she looked at me, I felt as though it 
were spring in my heart, and the sun shining there; and 
when I heard her voice I thought it music rejoicing my soul. 
Now, how quiet and gloomy all around me will be in the small 
house — no more sunshine or music ! all will be gone when 
Leonora is gone. And will she come back, then? — will not 
some bullet, some sword-blade — hush, my thoughts! I must 
not betray them! Be still, my heart, and weep! Be still 
and — ” Tears choked his voice, and the strong man, over- 
whelmed with grief, sank into his easy-chair and sobbed 
aloud. After a long time he raised himself again and dried 
his tears. “ Fie, Sergeant Prohaska!” he said aloud. “You 
sit here and cry like an old woman, and wring your hands in 
grief, instead of being glad and thanking the Lord that a 
substitute has been found for the invalid sergeant with the 
wooden leg. Thunder and lightning, Sergeant Prohaska! I 
advise you to behave yourself, and not be weak and foolish, 
while women are becoming men. Keep your head erect, turn 
your eyes on the enemy, and then, ‘Charge them!’ as old 
father Blucher used to say. I will go to work now,” he con- 
tinued, drawing a deep breath, after repeatedly pacing the 


236 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


small room with measured steps. “ Yes, I will go to work, 
and that no one may discover that I have wept, I will sing a 
beautiful song I learned yesterday from a volunteer. Yes, I 
will work and sing!” He hastened to the chamber adjoining 
the sitting-room, and brought from it a neat half-finished 
basket upon which he had been at work the day before. “ It 
must be finished to-day; I have promised it,” he said, sitting 
down on his old easy-chair. He then commenced working 
assiduously, and sang in a powerful voice : 

“ Nun mit Gott ! Es ist beschlossen ! 

Auf, Ihr wackern Streitgenossen, 

Endlich kommt der Ehrentag ! 

Besser flugs und frdhlich sterben, 

Als so langsam hin verderben, 

Und versiechen in der Schmach. 

“ Endlich darf das Herz sich regen, 

Sich die Zunge frei bewegen, 

Alle Fesseln sind entzwei. 

Ach, da Alles schier zerstoben, 

Kam der Retterarm from oben, 

Neugeboren sind wir, frei ! 

“ Tag der Freiheit, Tag der Wonne ! 

Briider, seht ! es tanzt die Sonne, 

Wie am ersten Ostertag ! 

Todte sprengen ihre Griifte, 

Und durch Berg und Thai und Kliifte 
Halit ein freudig Jauchzen nach ! 

“ Auferstanden, auferstanden 
Aus der Knechtschaft Todesbanden, 

Streiter Gottes, nun zu Hauf ! 

Unsre Adler ! Ha sie wittern 
Ihrer Raub — die Feinde zittern, 

Unsre Adler fahren auf ! 

“ Zu den Waffen, zu den Rossen, 

Auf, Ihr wackern Kampfgenossen 
Er ist da, Der Ehrentag ! 

Besser flugs und frohlich sterben, 

Als so langsam hin verderben, 

Uud versiechen in der Schmach ! ” * 


“ Yes, it is better to die quickly and merrily than slowly 
pine away and perish in disgrace,” repeated a sonorous voice 
behind him. It was Leonora, who had just entered the room, 
unnoticed by her father, and had listened to the last verse of 
his song. “ Yes, the song is right,” she said, enthusiastically. 
“ But I, father, have already been pining away for a long 

* It is resolved in God's great name ! 

Up, comrades ! to the field of fame ! 

This day of glory save. 

Quickly and merrily to die 
Is better than the sick-bed sigh, 

And an unhonored grave. 

Our heart at last resumes its life — 

Our tongues now urge to holy strife ; 

The broken chains we see. 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


237 


time. The first volunteer I saw was as a dagger that pierced 
my soul, and ever since I have been ill and suffering, and in 
my heart a voice has been continually singing the words I 
once heard at the theatre: ‘I wish to be a man!’ ” 

“And why do you wish to be a man?” asked her father, 
bowing his head, and seemingly devoting his whole attention 
to his work. 

“ Because a man is allowed to do freely and boldly what he 
deems right and good,” replied Leonora; “because, when the 
fatherland calls him, he may step forth with a bold front, and 
reply: ‘Here I am! To thee, my country, belongs my arm 
— my blood ! For thee I am ready to fight, and if need be to 
die!’ Father, when a man talks thus, his words are sublime 
— the women clasp their hands and listen devoutly to him, 
and the children, fall on their knees and pray for him. But 
if a girl talk thus, it would be as mockery ; the women would 
deride their heroic sister, and the children point at and shout 
after her, ‘Look at the foolish girl who wants to do what is 
solely the task of man ! Look at the crazy one, who imagines 
she can do men’s work!’ Her most sacred sentiments, her 
most patriotic desires and resolutions, would be mercilessly 
ridiculed !” 

“That is the reason, my child,” said her father, calmly 
laboring at his basket, “ why she should not betray her senti- 
ments, and confide her thoughts to God alone. Have you 
forgotten what Charles read to us about Joan of Orleans? 
She left her parents silently and secretly, and went whither 
God called her.” 


When all seemed lost, a saving hand 
From heaven vouchsafes to bless our land, 
And make us strong and free. 

O happy day ! The sun new-born 
Is dancing as on Easter morn ! 

See, risen brothers, see ! 

We come from slavery’s grave unbound. 
And mountains and the vales resound 
With songs of jubilee. 

Ascending from Oppression’s night, 

Behold the dawn of Freedom’s light ! 

Soldiers of God, arise ! 

The enemy will rue this day, 

For victory’s eagle scents the prey 
And onward quickly flies. 

To arms ! to horse ! my comrades brave 1 
And let the battle-standard wave, 

For now is honor’s day. 

The dying shout of bloody strife 
Is better than the pining life 
That sinks by slow decay. 


238 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“But her father cursed and disowned her for it,” said 
Leonora, in a tremulous voice. “ Do you think her father 
was right, merely because she followed the voice of God, and 
went out to deliver her king and country?” 

“No,” said Prohaska, laying his basket aside and rising, 
“I do not; I was always indignant when that particular pas- 
sage was read to us.” 

“And what would you have said, father?” asked Leonora, 
in a tone of profound emotion. “Imagine me to be Joan, 
the inspired maid of Orleans, and that I say: ‘Father, I can- 
not remain any longer in this narrow dwelling. The voice of 
the king and the fatherland has penetrated my heart also, and 
has called me. I must obey it, for I feel courageous and 
strong enough, and it would be cowardly to disobey.’ What 
would you say if I were Joan of Orleans, and should talk thus 
to you?” 

“ I should say, ‘Kneel down, my Leonora, and receive my 
last blessing,’” replied Prohaska, straightening himself and 
approaching his daughter. 

Leonora knelt down, and, raising her tearful eyes to her 
father, whispered: “What blessing would you give me if I 
were Joan of Orleans? Oh, think I am she, and give me 
your blessing!” 

“If you were Joan of Orleans,” responded the old man, 
solemnly, “ and should kneel before me as you do now, and 
ask my blessing, I should, as I do now, lay my hands on your 
head, and say to you: ‘God the Lord, who holds heaven and 
earth in His hand, and without whose will not a hair falls 
from our head, watch over you and protect you ! May He 
be with you on the battle-field ! May He give you a brave 
heart, a strong arm, and a steady eye! May He give you 
courage to brave death! You have chosen men’s work, you 
have pledged your love and your life to the fatherland ; go, 
then, and be a man; love your country like a man, fight like 
a man, and, if need be, die like a man!’ But when your last 
hour has come, my daughter, think of your father, and pray 
to God with your last thoughts that He may soon deliver me 
also, and take me away, for I shall feel lonely on earth when 
you are no more, and even the victorious shouts of the return- 
ing would no longer gladden my old soldier’s heart if I find 
you not among the conquerors. But, hush ! let no tear dese- 
crate this secret hour of our last farewell ! God has called all 
strong and courageous hearts — follow His call ! It is incumbent 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


239 


on every one to fove his country more intensely than parents, 
brothers, and sisters. Go, then, my daughter; do your duty, 
and remember that your father’s blessing will be with you in 
life as well as in death! And now, give me a last kiss.” 

Leonora rose from her knees, and, encircling his neck with 
her arms, pressed a glowing kiss on his lips. “Father,” she 
said, looking at him with a beaming face, “ my lips have not 
yet kissed any man’s lips but yours, and here I swear to you 

and may God have mercy on me at my last hour if I do not 
keep my oath ! — I swear to you that I shall kiss no man until 
I am permitted to return to you, my father !” 

“I believe you, dear Leonora,” said Prohaska, solemnly. 

“Leonora, my child, it is time now!” exclaimed her 
mother, hastily entering the room. “ The postilion has 
already passed our house, and in a quarter of an hour the 
stage-coach will stop at our door. I have myself gone to the 
postmaster, and he granted it as a favor that the stage-coach 
should stop here, and thus save you the trouble of going to 
the post-office. This will enable you to remain with us fifteen 
minutes yet.” 

“But my trunk, mother; we have to take it to the post- 
office?” asked Leonora. 

“Oh, it would have been too heavy for us,” said Mrs. 
Prohaska; “Charles and two of his school-mates are just 
carrying it to the post-office. Leonora’s trunk is quite heavy, 
father. Thank God, she is well provided, and for the first 
year it will be quite unnecessary for her to buy any thing.” 

“ My dear mother would indeed have packed up all her own 
things and dresses for me if I had not prevented her,” said 
Leonora, smiling. 

“I should like best to pack up my own heart for you, my 
dear child,” exclaimed her mother, deeply moved, “but, as I 
could not do so, I put my bridal dress into your trunk. It is 
a nice silk dress, and I have worn it only three times in my 
life — on my wedding-day, and on the days when my two chil- 
dren were baptized ; it is as good as new. I suppose, husband, 
you will permit me to give it to her?” 

“ Of course, but what is she to do with it?” asked Prohaska. 

“ Why, what a question !” exclaimed Mrs. Prohaska, “she is 
to wear it, and look pretty when she goes to parties on Sundays. 
Leonora, I suppose you will know what to do with it?” 

“ Yes, mother, I thank you from the bottom of my heart 
for the beautiful present, and I promise you that I shall use 


240 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


it only in a noble and worthy manner,” said Leonora, gravely. 
“My mother’s bridal dress shall not be worn for frivolous 
purposes, but it shall serve me to attain the highest and 
purest objects.” 

“ Oh, I know,” whispered the mother, who was scarcely able 
to restrain her tears, “ I know that you are an excellent girl, 
and a good daughter, and that you will never do any thing of 
which your old parents would have to be ashamed. You have 
always been my pride and joy, and never would I consent to 
part with you unless every one had now to make the greatest 
sacrifices for the king and the fatherland. But still it is very 
painful, and — ” 

“Wife,” interposed the old sergeant, “no tears now! 
When we are alone we shall have time enough for weeping. 
As long as Leonora is here, let us gaze at and rejoice in her. 
— I have to give you a commission yet. Go to my general, 
old Blucher, and tell him he ought not to be angry with me — 
that he must not believe me a lazy coward because I do not go 
to the war. Tell him that my leg had to be amputated some 
time after the battle, and that he ought to excuse my absence 
when the roll is called.” 

“I will assuredly repeat your words to the general, father.” 

“Why!” asked Mrs. Prohaska, wonderingly, “is General 
Blucher now at Berlin?” 

“No,” said her husband, carelessly, “he is at Breslau, 
whithpr all the volunteers are marching.” 

“But how is Leonora, then, to repeat your words to him?” 
asked his wife, in amazement. 

“ Father means that I shall tell General Blucher when he 
comes to Berlin?” said Leonora, quickly. “ They say Blucher 
will come soon to expel the French from the capital, and father 
thinks I might then repeat those words to his old chieftain.” 

“ Sister, sister, the stage-coach is coming,” shouted Charles, 
rushing breathlessly into the room. “ The postilion has 
already blown his bugle for the third time!” 

“Well, then, my child, we must part,” said the old ser- 
geant, deeply moved, and clasping Leonora in his arms. 
“God bless you, my daughter! Your father’s thoughts will 
always be with you!” He disengaged himself from her arms, 
and pushed her gently toward her mother. The two women 
remained a long time locked in each other’s arms. Neither 
of them said a word, but their tears and their last looks were 
more eloquent than words. 


JOAN OF ORLEANS. 


241 


“And you forget me ? ” asked Charles, reproachfully. 
“ You do not care to take leave of me?” 

Leonora released herself from her mother’s embrace, and 
encircled her brother’s neck with her arms. “ Farewell, dar- 
ling of my heart!” she cried. “Be a good son to father and 
mother, and remember that you must henceforth love them 
for both of us. Farewell, brother, and forgive me for being 
born earlier than you, and thus preventing your being in my 
place. God decreed it thus, putting us in our own places, 
and we must both fill them worthily.” 

“Yes,” said Charles, amid his tears, “certainly we will.” 

A carriage was rattling over the pavement, and stopped in 
front of the house. A bugle sounded. 

“Father, mother, and brother, farewell!” exclaimed Leo- 
nora. Then, raising her arms to heaven, she added : “ God 
in heaven, watch over them, and, if such be Thy will, let me 
return to them!” She hastily wrapped herself in her cloak, 
and, without looking at them again, rushed out of the room, 
and jumped into the coach. 

“Farewell, farewell!” shouted father, mother, and brother, 
who had followed her, and were standing in front of the 
house. 

She leaned her head out of the coach window. “ Farewell,” 
she exclaimed, “and God — ” The bugle drowned her words; 
the carriage rolled away. 

The loving relatives gazed after it until it had disappeared 
around the next corner, and then returned sighing into the 
small house. Charles hastened to his little chamber up-stairs 
to give vent to his grief. The parents returned to their 
sitting-room. “ Oh, how still it is here now, as still as in the 
grave,” sighed Mrs. Prohaska, “for I miss my child, and will 
miss her everywhere. Oh, husband, my heart aches, and I 
feel as though I had lost my Leonora forever ! Ah, why did 
we allow her to go? Why did we not keep her here, our 
child, our only daughter? Oh! if she should never return, 
if she should die! 0 God, have mercy on a poor mother’s 
heart — protect my dear child!” She sank down on a chair, 
and, covering her face with her apron, sobbed aloud. 

The old sergeant paced the room in silence. He scarcely 
knew that the tears, like large pearls, were running down his 
cheeks into his gray beard. The loud sobs of his wife aroused 
him. “ Hush, wife ; hush !” he said, standing in front of her. 
“ It is too late now for weeping. Let us rather be glad, for 


242 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Leonora is possessed of a brave heart, and has done her duty 
toward her country and her old invalid father. Let us, there- 
fore, he glad, and sing!” And he commenced to sing in a 
tremulous voice, while the tears were still rolling from his 
eyes: 

“ Ihr Deutsche auf in Siid und Nord ! 

Hinweg gemeiner Neid ! 

Wir alle reden eine Sprach 1 
Und stehen all’ fur eine Sadi’ 

Im ehrenvollen Streit ! 

“Und wer sich feig entzieht dem Kampf 
Fiir Freiheit und fur Ehr’, 

Wer nicht das Schwertergreift zur Stund ! 

Der leb’ und sterb 1 als schlechter Hund, 

Der sei kein Deutscher mehr ! ” * 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 

Leonora Prohaska reached Berlin at four o’clock in the 
afternoon. On the way, closing her eyes, she leaned back on 
the cushions, so that her companions paid little attention to 
her, whom they believed to be asleep. But Leonora heard 
every word, and every conversation of her fellow-travellers 
strengthened her soul and restored her former courage. 
They spoke of the enthusiasm in every city, village, and house 
— an enthusiasm spreading far beyond the frontiers of Prus- 
sia, and carrying all away as an irresistible torrent, drawing 
with it even the most cautious and timid, and filling the most 
desponding and disheartened with joyous hopes. One of the 
travellers was just returning from Breslau, and dwelt with 
impassioned eloquence on the bustle prevailing there; on the 
volunteers who were flocking in vast numbers to that city and 
parading every day under the king’s windows; and on brave 
Major von Lutzow, who, with his beautiful young wife, had 
come to Breslau, and was endeavoring to live at a miserable 
tavern, because no other accommodations were to be had. 

* Arise, ye Germans, North and South ! 

And honor’s path pursue. 

Since all one common language speak 
And all one sacred object seek, 

Your jealousies subdue. 

Let him who shirks his country’s call, 

To freedom and to fame, 

Both live and die a cowardly hound, 

Despised wherever may be found 
A man of German name. 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


243 


“And in the bar-room,” he said, “beautiful Madame von 
Liitzow receives the names of the volunteers who wish to enlist 
in the Legion of Vengeance. Her husband is busily engaged, 
from dawn till late at night, in organizing his corps; in try- 
ing to procure arms, horses, and equipments for his men, and 
his handsome wife is his recruiting officer. She is as charm- 
ing as an angel, the daughter of a wealthy count, and has, by 
her marriage with Major von Liitzow, contrary to her par- 
ents’ wishes, so much exasperated her proud father that he 
gave her no dower, but imposed it as a condition of his con- 
sent that Major von Liitzow should marry without any. But 
the count’s daughter joyously descended from the proud castle 
to the humble dwelling of the Prussian major, whom she 
loved on account of his bravery, and the scars which he bore 
on his forehead, and which he had received in 1806, in the 
war against the French.” 

“I know the lady,” said the second traveller; “she is a 
daughter of the Danish Count von Ahlefeldt, a wonder of 
loveliness, grace, and refined manners. She hates the French 
as intensely as her husband, and it was precisely this common 
hatred of the French that brought them together.” 

“ How so?” asked the other. “ Pray tell us all about it.” 

“ Several years ago, the young countess, attended by her 
governess, made a journey to a fashionable German watering- 
place. Both took dinner at the table d'hote of the ‘Kurhaus,’ 
where a crowd of persons from all countries were assembled. 
The neighbor of the young countess at the table happened to 
be a French officer, who managed to involve the young lady 
in a highly animated and interesting conversation. He told 
her in a very attractive manner of his campaigns and travels, 
and the young countess listened to him with pleasure and 
manifested her sympathy for him. The Frenchman dared 
to seize her hand and kiss it. The young countess started ; a 
deep blush suffused her fair face, and, without reflecting, 
obeying only her first impulse, she took a glass of water which 
stood before her, and poured it over the hand which the 
Frenchman had dared to kiss. Several Prussian officers, 
seated near her had witnessed the occurrence, and, on notic- 
ing how she removed the stain of the French kiss from her 
hand, could not refrain from bursting into a loud cheer. 
One of them was Major von Liitzow. After dinner he ap- 
proached the countess, was introduced to her by a mutual 
acquaintance, and expressed his ardent thanks, in the name 


244 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


of all Germans, for the bold rebuke she bad administered to 
the Frenchman. That was the beginning of her acquaintance 
with Major von Lutzow, and the end of it was her marriage 
with him.* She is now at Breslau, and you have seen her.” 

“ Yes, for I went to the major’s headquarters with a friend 
who wished to enlist in his corps. We met there, however, 
only herself. She received my friend’s request to enlist under 
her husband with so much grace, with such a look of joy — 
she dwelt in such soul -stirring words on the great and holy 
national war about to break out, and in which every one ought 
to participate, that I was quite fascinated by her eloquence, 
and would have enlisted at once if I had not already entered a 
landwehr regiment.” 

Not a word of this conversation escaped Leonora, and she 
said to herself : “ I must make the acquaintance of this lady. 
I will go to her, and she will enlist me for the German father- 
land!” 

The travellers continued their conversation, relating that 
Frederick William had not believed in the success of the first 
manifesto, in which he called for volunteers; and, for this 
reason, had not signed the manifesto which Chancellor von 
Hardenberg had drawn up ; that four days afterward the king, 
who had just explained with unusual vehemence to General 
Scharnhorst the utter uselessness of this call, was interrupted 
by a strange noise in the street ; and that, anxious to discover 
what was the cause, he stepped to the window, and General 
Scharnhorst followed him; that a line of at least eighty 
wagons had come in sight, and in them none but armed men 
were seated, who halted in front of the palace, and an aide- 
de-camp, who entered the room at that moment, informed the 
king that they were volunteers just arrived from Berlin; that 
Scharnhorst turned to him, and exclaimed triumphantly: 
“ Will your majesty be convinced now that your people are 
ready to fight for you and the fatherland?” and that the king 
made no reply, but a flood of tears rushed from his eyes, and 
he smiled amidst his emotion. 

At length Leonora arrived at Berlin. She stood alone be- 
side her trunk in the court-yard of the royal post-office build- 
ing. No notice was taken of her; no one manifested any 
sympathy for her; but she did not flinch, and her heart was 
free from doubt or anxiety. She sent for a hackney-coach by 

* I am indebted for an account of this occurrence to the Countess Ahlefeldt (for- 
merly Madame Major von Lutzow) herself, who related it to me with charming nai- 
vete and grace.— L. 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


245 


one of the boys playing in the court-yard, and then drove 
away. But she did not order the coachman to convey her to 
her godfather, Werkmeister, the merchant on Jager Street. 
Driving first to Tauben Street, the carriage stopped in front 
of a large, gloomy house. She alighted, and, begging the 
coachman to wait for her, slipped into the house. Quickly 
ascending three narrow flights of stairs, she reached a silent 
corridor, on both sides of which were small doors, and on 
each a number had been painted. Knocking at the door of 
number three, a female voice inquired, “Who is there?” 

“It is I, Leonora Prohaska!” 

A loud cry of joy resounded ; the door was hastily opened, 
and a young soldier in full uniform appeared on the threshold. 
It w r as now Leonora who uttered a cry, and blushing drew 
back. “Pardon me,” she said, timidly; “there must be a 
mistake. I am looking for my friend, a young millii.er, 
named Caroline Peters.” 

The young soldier laughed, but it was the fresh, ringing 
laughter of a girl. “ Then you really do not recognize me, 
Leonora?” he exclaimed. “You really take me for what I 
like to be and. am not — a man?” 

“ Great Heaven ! is it you?” exclaimed Leonora. “ You — ” 

“Hush!” whispered the other, hastily drawing her into the 
room, and carefully locking the door. “ For mercy’s sake, let 
no one hear us! What a scandal it would be, if it should be 
discovered that Volunteer Charles Petersen receives the visits 
of pretty girls at his room! This hotel is entirely occupied 
by volunteers, and none of them suspect that I am a woman, 
nor shall they ever find it out. But now welcome, my dear 
Leonora, and tell me what has brought you to Berlin. Did 
you receive my letter?” 

“ Yes, Caroline, I did,” said Leonora, gravely, “ and it gave 
me pain, for you called me cowardly and destitute of honor, 
because I intended to stay at home when my country was in 
need of the arms of all its children, and when every one of 
any courage was participating in this holy struggle.” 

“And that is the truth, Leonora,” exclaimed Caroline; 
“ the fatherland has called us all, and those who do not listen 
to this call are cowards!” 

“But who told you that I did not listen to it?” asked 
Leonora. 

“What!” ejaculated Caroline, joyously. “Leonora, you, 
too—” 


24G 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Hush !” interrupted Leonora, “ we must talk about ;;11 this 
afterward. I am in haste now, for there is a hackney-coach 
waiting for me at the door, and my trunk is on it. Tell 
me now quickly, Caroline, can I stay with you over night?” 

“In female dress, Leonora? That would be hardly pru- 
dent.” 

“No, in male attire, Caroline.” 

“Oh, then you are a thousand times welcome here,” ex- 
claimed Caroline, encircling her with her arms, and drawing 
her to her heart. 

“But I have not yet my male attire,” said Leonora, smil- 
ing, “nor have I money to buy it. Give me, therefore, 
quickly, the name of some one who buys dresses, for I will 
drive to him immediately with my trunk, and sell all I have 
brought with me.” 

“ Come, Leonora, I will accompany you,” said Caroline. 
“ I know at the Hospital Bridge a very patriotic and kind- 
hearted old Jew, to whom I have also sold my wearing 
apparel, and who paid me a very liberal price for it, when 1 
told him that I wanted to buy a uniform for my brother. 
Let us drive there, but I will remain in the carriage while 
you go into the store, for he might recognize me. You will 
also find men’s clothing, which you may purchase for your 
brother — that is to say, for yourself.” 

“ Come, then, and let us make haste,” said Leonora, draw- 
ing her friend with her. 

Fifteen minutes afterward the hackney-coach halted in 
front of one of the second-hand clothing-stores near the Hos- 
pital Bridge, and Leonora alighted, holding in her arms a 
large package of dresses, shawls, skirts, and aprons, which she 
had taken from her trunk during the drive. Mr. Hirsch, the 
dealer in second-hand clothing, who was standing in front of 
his store, received her with a pleasant greeting, and invited 
her to enter and tell him what she wanted. 

Leonora put the wearing apparel on the counter, and, 
drawing a deep breath, said in a tone of embarrassment, “ I 
should like to sell these things, sir.” 

The Jew put his spectacles slowly on his nose, and then 
lifted up the dresses, one after another, contemplating them 
with scrutinizing glances. 

“If he should not give me as much money as I need?” 
Leonora asked herself, anxiously, “ if these things should not 
amount to so much that I cannot purchase a uniform?” 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


247 


And old Hirsch, as if he heard the anxious question of her 
heart, said, shaking his head: “I cannot give very much for 
these few calico dresses and aprons. They are all very nice 
and well preserved, but of no value whatever.” 

“But there is also a silk dress, sir,” said Leonora, in a 
tremulouus voice, “ an entirely new silk dress.” 

“New?” asked the Jew, shrugging his shoulders, drawing 
out the dress, and unfolding it with a sneer. “ The dress is 
not new, for it is made after such an old fashion that it could 
be worn only at a masked ball ; and the stuff; is not worth any 
thing, either, for it is only half silk. It was just made to 
look at. It appears like heavy silk, but the oblique threads 
that make it look so heavy are all cotton. How much do you 
want for the whole, my pretty miss?” 

“I do not know,” said Leonora, in a low voice, “as much 
as you can give me for it.” 

“Yes, yes,” grumbled the old man, “I am to give a great 
deal of money for very poor goods; that is what they all ask 
me to do. I will tell you, I cannot give you more than 
twelve dollars for the whole lot.” 

“Twelve dollars!” ejaculated Leonora, with such an ex- 
pression of dismay that the Jew started, raising his green 
spectacles to his forehead, and fixing his small, twinkling eyes 
on Leonora. 

“Twelve dollars!” repeated Leonora, and, no longer able to 
restrain her tears, she wrung her hands, and muttered : “ It 
is all in vain, then ! Twelve dollars are not sufficient to buy 
a uniform and arms.” 

Hirsch heard her words. “ What?” he asked, hastily. “ You 
want to sell the dresses in order to buy a uniform and arms?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Leonora, “my mother and I wanted to 
sell our dresses, because we hoped we would get money enough 
to buy my brother a complete uniform — a rifle, sword, and 
shako; for my brother intends to enlist in Liitzow’s corps of 
riflemen.” 

“ Your brother intends to enlist in Lutzow’s corps of rifle- 
men?” asked Hirsch, quickly. “Is that no pretext, eh? Do 
you not tell me so merely for the purpose of extorting money 
from me? Can you swear to me that that is why you wish to 
sell the dresses?” 

“ I can swear it by the great God in heaven, in whom we 
all believe,” said Leonora, solemnly. “But I can prove it to 
you, too.” 


248 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ How so? In what way?” 

“ By buying a uniform for my brother here at your store. 
He is of the same height as I am, and has precisely the same 
figure: we are twins.” 

“ And your brother intends to enlist in Lutzow’s corps? 
Why did he not himself come to select a uniform?” 

“ He is at Potsdam, sir, and does not know that I am here. 
To-morrow is his birthday, and we want to surprise him by 
giving him his uniform to-morrow.” 

“And he shall have it!” exclaimed the Jew; “yes, he shall 
have it! I read in your eyes that you have told me the truth, 
my child, and that you do not want the money for frivolous 
purposes, but for the great cause of the German fatherland. 
I have also a heart for my country, and no one shall say that 
we Israelites do not feel and act like true Germans — that our 
hearts did not suffer under the disgrace which, for long years, 
has weighed down all Germany, and that we will not joyfully 
sacrifice our blood and our life; and, what is still more, our 
property, for the sake of the fatherland. Who was the first 
man at Berlin to make a voluntary contribution to this object? 
It was a Jew! The president of the Jewish congregation, M. 
Gum pert, made the first patriotic contribution. He sent 
three hundred dollars to the military commission, with the 
request that this amount might be spent for buying equip- 
ments for poor volunteers.* Our Gumpert was the first man 
who made a sacrifice for the benefit of the fatherland, and I 
do not wish to be the last. I made a mistake in appraising 
your things; I will do it over again, and what I can give I will 
give.” He glanced again at the dresses; then shaking his 
head, and stroking the silk dress with his long, lean hand, he 
said, “ How could I make such a mistake, and believe this 
stuff to be only half silk? It is all silk, heavy silk — and two 
dresses of the now fashionable tight cut can easily be made out 
of this splendid one. For this alone I will give you twenty 
dollars, and as for the other things, well, I will give you 
twenty dollars more.” 

“ Oh,” exclaimed Leonora, radiant with joy, and giving 
both her hands to the old Jew — “oh, you are a noble, generous 
man, a true patriot! I thank you, and may the delivered 
land some day reward you ! 

“ Ah, poor Hirsch cannot deserve great rewards at the hands 
of the fatherland,” said the old man, sighing. “I am poor, 

♦Historical. 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


249 


I have not even a son whom I might give to the country, and 
intrust with the task of avenging me. I had a son, a good, 
dear boy; but, in 1807, when the French arrived here, he 
wished to defend our property against the soldiers who broke 
into our house ; he grew very angry with the infamous 
ruffians, and called them and their emperor murderers and 
robbers. Thereupon they mortally stabbed him — they killed 
him before my own eyes! He was my only child, my only joy 
on earth! But, hush! this is no time for lamentations. I 
will rejoice — yes, rejoice, for the hour of vengeance has come, 
and we will pay the French for what wrongs they have in- 
flicted on us. If I were not so old and feeble, I should myself 
willingly fight, but now I am only able to assist in equipping 
soldiers. Your brother shall become a soldier, my child; we 
will equip him for the Legion of Vengeance. He shall 
avenge my son, my innocent, beloved son, upon Napoleon the 
tyrant, and the French rabble, who have trampled us under 
foot so long and so disgracefully. Yes, yes, I will give you 
forty dollars for your things, but I will not give you the whole 
amount in cash. Look at this black uniform; it is quite 
new, the tailor delivered it only yesterday. Did not you tell 
me that your brother is of the same stature as you are?” 

“ Of the same stature and figure, for he is my twin- 
brother.” 

“Well, let us see if this uniform fits you.” 

Mr. Hirsch took out his tape-line, and measured Leonora’s 
figure with the skill of an experienced tailor. He then ap- 
plied the tape-line to the trousers and the coat of black cloth. 
“ It fits splendidly,” he exclaimed. “ And here is also a nice 
silk vest that belongs to it. Now, listen to me! I charge 
you twelve dollars for the whole suit ; you will, therefore, re- 
ceive twenty-eight dollars in money. Now you will, in the 
first place, buy your brother a fine rifle, such as Lutzow’s 
riflemen need. You will pay ten dollars for it; besides a 
sword and a shako, which will cost together five dollars. You 
will have thirteen dollars left. For this amount you will put 
a pair of good shirts and a new pair of boots . into your 
brother’s knapsack, and the remainder you will give him for 
pocket-money. Is it to be so? Is the bargain struck?” 

“Yes, the bargain is struck.” 

“ Very well. Here is your uniform, and here are the 
twenty-eight dollars.” He counted the shining dollars on the 
counter, and then pushed the money and the clothing toward 
17 


250 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Leonora. “Here is onr Liiztow’s rifleman’s uniform,” he 
exclaimed. 

“And here are the dresses, sir,” said Leonora, handing the 
wearing apparel to the old man, but, while doing so, she 
quickly bent over it, and pressed a kiss on the silk dress. 

Old Hirsch looked at her with amazement. 

“It is my mother’s bridal dress, sir,” said Leonora, as if 
apologetically. “ It was our greatest treasure, and I gave it 
only a farewell kiss.” 

The Jew looked down musingly. “Listen, my child,” he 
said; “I must not sell this dress. I shall keep it until the 
war is over. If your brother gets safely back, you may bring 
him here, and, as a greeting of welcome, I will present your 
mother’s bridal dress to him. But in return, he must do me 
a favor.” 

“ What favar?” 

“Whenever he cuts down a Frenchman, he is to shout, 
‘Moses Hirsch is avenged!’ Moses was the name of my dear, 
unfortunate son, and I think he will sleep more calmly in his 
grave when he hears that his father has sent out an avenger 
of his death. Will you promise me, in your brother’s name, 
that he will not forget to shout what I tell you?” 

“ I promise it! Whenever my brother cuts down a French- 
man, he will shout, ‘Moses Hirsch is avenged!’ ” 

“ Thank you!” said Hirsch, greatly moved. “ My son will 
hear it, and he will smile down from heaven on his old, lonely 
father. And now, my dear, beautiful child, good-by! Give 
me the package; I will take it for you to the carriage!” 

“.No, no, give it back to me,” exclaimed Leonora, anxiously. 
But the old man did not listen to her. He took the package, 
and hastened with it out of his store to the hackney-coach. 

Charles Petersen, at this moment, looked impatiently out 
of the window, and shouted to her friend to make haste. 

Old Hirsch uttered a cry and stared at Caroline. “ Great 
Heaven!” he exclaimed, “ you in uniform — you a volunteer?” 

“Ah,” said Caroline, concealing her confusion by loud 
laughter, “ I see what astonishes you. You confound me 
with my sister. I know she sold her dresses to you to buy a 
uniform and arms for me. Yes, it is difficult to distinguish 
us, for we greatly resemble each other. The reason is, we 
are twins.” 

“He has a twin-sister as you have a twin-brother,” said 
Hirsch, turning to Leonora with a strange smile. “ Hush ! I 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


251 


understand all now. God protect ttie courageous twins! 
Coachman, start!” 

“Whither?” asked the coachman. 

“To M. Werkmeister’s house, 23 Jager Street,” replied 
Leonora, nodding a last greeting to the old Jew. The car- 
riage wheeled away. 

“ What do you want at M. Werkmeister’s?” asked Caroline. 

“To pay him my last visit as a girl,” said Leonora. 
“ Keturning from his house, I shall divest myself of my female 
costume and become your comrade. Let us then go out to- 
gether and buy my arms. ” 

“ But would it not be better for me to drive back to our 
hotel while you are Werkmeister’s?” asked Caroline. “ You 
have had the hackney-coach already above an hour, and we 
volunteers must be as economical as possible, in order to sup- 
port ourselves as long as we can, and not become a burden to 
the state.” 

“That is true,” said Leonora. “I will alight here, and 
you will be so kind as to take my trunk and the package to 
your quarters.” The hackney-coach halted, and Leonora, 
wrapping herself in her shawl, leaped out of the carriage. 
“Drive back to Tauben Street, now,” she said, “and assist 
the gentleman in carrying this trunk up to his room. But 
previously I will pay you the whole fare. How much do I 
owe you?” 

“ From the post-office to Tauben Street, four groschen,” 
said the coachman, composedly. 

“And besides?” 

“ Nothing else.” 

“ How so — nothing else? You waited a good while in Tau- 
ben Street ; we then drove hither, where you waited a long 
while again, and now you are about to return to Tauben 
Street.” 

“Yes; but in Tauben Street we took in a volunteer,” said 
the coachman, whipping his horses in a gentle, caressing man- 
ner. “ We hackmen never take any money for driving a 
volunteer. Every one must do as much for the fatherland as 
he can. You owe me, therefore, only four groschen.” 

“Here they are,” said Leonora, handing the money to the 
hackman, “and we are much obliged to you.” 

“ Oh, you are not obliged to me at all,” said the hackman, 
“ for you see I do not drive girls for nothing — only volunteers. ” 

“To-morrow he will drive me, too, for nothing,” said Leo- 


252 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


nora, gazing after the hackney-coach. “ To-morrow 1 will no 
longer be a girl ! For I am going now to bid a last adieu to 
my outward maidenhood and my past!” And she walked 
with resolute steps across the Gendarmes Market toward Jager 
Street. 

“ I must tell my dear godfather that I cannot accept his 
offer,” she said to herself; “for, if I should not, he might 
perhaps write another letter to me to Potsdam, and mother 
would then learn prematurely that I told her a falsehood, and 
am not now at my godfather’s house; but when he knows 
that I cannot come, he will not write again, and no one will 
discover my plans.” 

There was an unusual throng to-day in front of the house 
No. 23 on Jager Street, where Werkmeister the merchant lived. 
It was not without difficulty that Leonora penetrated 
through the crowd to the door, where was to be seen a large 
placard, containing the following words: “ Gold ivedding- 
rings exchanged for iron ones here.” Somewhat astonished at 
this strange inscription, Leonora entered the house, and 
stepped across the hall to the open door of her godfather’s 
sitting-room. 

M. Rudolph Werkmeister, without looking attentively at 
her, presented her a small box containing a large number of 
glittering rings. “ Please select one of these, and drop the 
gold ring into the aperture of the locked box,” he said. 

Leonora looked at him smilingly. “It is I, godfather,” 
she said, offering hint her hand. 

“Ah, it is you, Leonora Prohaska,” exclaimed M. Werk- 
meister, putting down the box. “ You have received my let- 
ter, then, my child? You have at length made up your mind 
to comply with my wishes — to come to my house, and to assist 
my wife at the store and in the household? Well, you could 
not have come at a better hour, and I thank you for your 
kindness.” 

Leonora fixed her large dark eyes with an affectionate ex- 
pression on the good-natured, pleasant face of the merchant, 
and stepping up to him laid both her hands on his shoulders. 
“Godfather, dear godfather,” she said, greatly moved, “do 
not be angry with me, and forgive me for coming only to tell 
you I cannot accept your offer. Do not ask me why I cannot. 
I am not allowed to tell you the reason, but I know that, when 
you learn it some day, you will certainly approve what I have 
done. I really am no ungrateful girl, but I cannot come to 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


253 


you, clear M. Werkmeister. I have greater and holier duties 
to fulfil — duties to which God Himself has called me!” 

“That is to say, my child, you do not wish to leave your 
poor old parents?” asked Mr. Werkmeister, in great emotion. 
“ You will stay with them at their small house and eat the 
invalid’s brown bread rather than live luxuriously at the beau- 
tiful capital of Prussia? You are right, perhaps, my child. 
You are the only joy of your parents, and I was selfish, per- 
haps, in trying to rob them of you. But, in doing so, I 
thought more of yourself, and desired to give a better and 
brighter sphere to your youth. But we must all pursue the 
paths which God and our conscience have marked out for 
us.” 

“ Yes,” exclaimed Leonora, enthusiastically, “ you are right. 
Let me, therefore, pursue my own path, and may Heaven ac- 
company me! You are not angry with me, then, godfather? 
You really are not? No? Now give me your hand, god- 
father, and let me take leave of you with an affectionate 
kiss!” She threw her arms round the old man’s neck, and 
kissed him tenderly, 

“ But you do not intend to leave immediately?” asked M. 
Werkmeister, surprised. “You have not even seen my sick 
wife, and talk already of taking leave?” 

“ Ah, I must go. I have still much to attend to, and must 
leave Berlin to-night. But, tell me one thing ! What is the 
meaning of the inscription at your door, and why is there 
such a crowd in front of your house?” 

“They are reading the placard which I have hung out,” 
said M. Werkmeister — “ the request which I addressed to all 
patriots.” 

“ And what do you request of them to do, godfather?” 

“ 1 request all families, and especially all wives and affianced 
brides, to bring their gold wedding-rings to me and receive 
iron ones in return; and in commemoration of these times, I 
have had ten thousand iron rings made, and the royal authori- 
ties approved my scheme and intrusted me with the collection 
of the gold ones. My request was published in the papers of 
this morning, and already more than thirty gold rings have 
been exchanged. Look, here are the iron ones. They are 
very neat, are they not? — the exact shape of genuine wedding- 
rings; only in place' of the names, the inside contains the 
words, ‘I gave gold for iron, 1813. ’ Read!” 

“Oh, that is a very beautiful idea,” exclaimed Leonora, 


.254 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER, 


contemplating the ring which he had handed her. “ Such a 
memento will henceforth be the most precious ornament of all 
wives, and no gold will shine so brilliantly and be so valuable 
as these iron rings with which our women pledge their love to 
their native land. Ah, dear godfather, I would like to ask a 
favor of you. I am no wife, nor am I an affianced bride, and 
I have, therefore, no wedding-ring to give you. I have noth- 
ing but my heart, and in this heart there is no other love than 
that of country. Let me, therefore, offer it to the fatherland 
instead of gold, and give me for it an iron ring with the 
beautiful inscription: ‘ I gave gold for iron , 1813.’ ” 

“ There is a ring, my child ; your heart is pure gold ; let it 
remain so; then you will well deserve your ring!” He placed 
it on her finger, and she thanked him with a blissful 
smile. 

“And now I go, dear godfather,” said Leonora. “Fare- 
well, and do not forget me ! And — ” 

At this moment a lady entered the room. Her dress indi- 
cated poverty, and her face was pale and sunken, but her eyes 
were lit up with a noble enthusiasm. “ The wedding-rings 
are exchanged here?” she asked. 

“Yes, here.” 

She quickly drew two from her finger, and handed them to 
M. Werkmeister. “Take them,” she cried. “One of these 
rings belongs to me, the other I drew from the finger of my 
dear husband. Ten years have elapsed since then; I have 
always worn them, and, although I have often suffered great 
privations, I could never part with my only treasure. But 
to-day I do so joyously. Give me my iron rings!” She took 
those handed her, and placed them on her finger. “ Fare- 
well, sir,” she said. “ These will be my daughter’s heirloom, 
and I know she will rejoice over them.” She had not yet 
crossed the threshold when another lady appeared, and an- 
other, and more followed in rapid succession. The news- 
papers, containing the request, had been read in the whole 
city ; all the married women hastened to comply with it, and 
to lay down their wedding-rings on the altar of the father- 
land. Leonora stood as if fascinated by the beautiful and 
soul-stirring scene. With radiant eyes she gazed at the ladies 
who came and received with joyous pride iron rings in ex- 
change for gold ones — at the young women, who, blushing and 
with tearful eyes, gave up their first love-pledge— at the old 
matrons who came totteringly to exchange the golden reminis- 


THE NATIONAL REPRESENTATIVES. 


255 • 


cences of the days of their youth for iron ornaments.* Tears 
of profound emotion fell from Leonora’s eyes. She wished to 
embrace these women and thank them for their patriotism. 

“I will also prove to the country how ardently I love it,” 
she said to herself. “ I will also make my sacrifices. I must 
go, Caroline is waiting for me. I must buy arms for the sol- 
diers whom I intend to furnish.” She shook hands with her 
godfather in silence. The crowd in front of the door receded 
before her, and allowed her to pass, filled with reverence for 
the women who returned from the solemn sacrifice they had 
made. She passed on, absorbed in her reflections. Once she 
raised her hand, and contemplated the iron ring on her finger. 
“ I gave gold for iron !” she said, raising her dark eyes toward 
heaven. “I am now a bride, too, the bride of my country! 
Will it give me only iron for the gold of my love? Only a 
bullet or a sword-cut? No matter! I am the bride of the 
fatherland! I will live and die for it!” She was aroused 
from her musings by cheers suddenly resounding from the side 
of the Gendarmes Market. An immense crowd had assembled 
there, and shouted frantically, their faces beaming with joy. 

“ What is it?” 

And a hundred jubilant voices replied: “General York is 
coming with the Prussians! The king has reinstated York! 
The court-martial has acquitted him !” f 

“Long live noble General York!” shouted the crowd. 
“York was the first man to take heart, and brave the 
French!” 

“York is coming to Berlin!” shouted others, hurrying from 
the adjoining streets to the market-place. “York, with his 
Prussians, is outside the King’s Gate, and to-morrow he will 
make his entry into Berlin !” 

“ Long live the brave general ! All Berlin will meet him 
to-morrow, and cheer him who first drew his sword against 
the French! The new era is dawning on Prussia!” 

“Yes, the new era is dawning on Prussia!” exclaimed Leo- 
nora. “We have long walked in sadness. But morning is 
breaking — the morning of freedom. Now we shall boldly 
raise our heads. The country has called us, and we all have 
heard the call, and are ready to conquer or die. Hail, brave 
York! The time of thraldom is past! We shall rise from 

* On the first day about two hundred wedding-rings were exchanged.— Vide Beitzke, 

V °t York made his entry into Berlin at the head of the Prussian troops on the 17th of 
March, 1813, and was received with boundless enthusiasm. 


256 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the dust, and the Germans will now reconquer the sacred 
right of being Germans. Oh, my heart, rejoice! I am. no 
longer a girl, I am one of Lutzow’s riflemen, and to-morrow 
I shall go to Breslau, and add another soldier to the Legion 
of Vengeance. Farewell, Leonora Prohaska, farewell! Now 
you are a man, and your soul must be manly, strong, and 
hopeful. Long live Prussia!” 


WAR AND AN ARMISTICE. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THEODORE KORNER. 

Another corps of volunteers leaving Berlin had arrived at 
Breslau, and just alighted from their wagons on the large 
market-place, called the “Ring,” and received their tickets 
for quarters at the city hall. Two of these volunteers, emerg- 
ing from the building, descended arm in arm the steps of the 
front staircase. They were two young men of slight forms 
and strangely youthful appearance. Not the faintest down 
was around their fresh lips, and white and delicate were their 
foreheads. But no one was surprised at their tender age, for 
people were accustomed nowadays to see lads emulate man- 
hood, believing that courage did not depend on years. By 
the side of aged men, boys who had just been confirmed were 
seen to enter the ranks of the volunteers, and handle their 
muskets with the same strength and energy as veteran sol- 
diers. No one, therefore, particularly noticed the youthful 
age of the two volunteers who came forth from the city hall, 
and were now crossing the place arm in arm. 

“Now our lot is cast,” said one of them, with a smile. 
“We are soldiers!” 

“Yes, we are soldiers,” cried the other, “and we shall be 
brave ones, Caroline!” 

“Caroline!” echoed the other, in dismay. “How impru- 
dent! Did we not leave our female names with our wearing 
apparel at Berlin with the Jew, Leonora?” 

“Ah, and you call me, too, by my female name,” said 
Leonora, with a gentle smile. “No matter! it is all right 
enough so long as no one hears it. We have no secrets from 
each other, and we are, therefore, allowed to call each other 
by the names received at the baptismal font.” 

“ But before the world we call ourselves differently now; I 


258 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


am Charles Petersen, and you— what is your name now, 
Leonora?” 

“ My name is Charles Renz,” said Leonora, smiling. 
“ That was the name of my dear teacher, to whom I am in- 
debted for what little knowledge I have acquired, and who 
originally induced me to take the step I have ventured upon. 
He had been a soldier a long time, and loved his country and 
the royal family. History was his favorite study, and he told 
me of the heroic deeds of ancient nations in their struggles for 
liberty. His eyes beamed with transcendent ardor, and the 
words flowed from his lips like a stream of poetry. He taught 
me that, when the country was in danger, it was the duty of 
the women to take up arms in its defence, and that there was 
no more beautiful death than that on the field of honor. Joan 
of Orleans and the Maid of Saragossa were his favorite hero- 
ines, and he always called Queen Louisa the martyr of Ger- 
man liberty. When she died, three years ago, the first idea 
that struck me was, how my old teacher would bear up under 
this grief, and that it was incumbent upon me to comfort 
him. I hastened to him, and found him sad and disheartened. 
‘Now my hopes for Germany are gone,’ he said, ‘for the genius 
of German liberty has left us and fled to heaven. Beautiful 
and noble Queen Louisa might, perhaps, have still inspired 
the Germans to rise in arms against the tyrant; but she is 
dead, and liberty has died with her.’ ‘No,’ I cried, ‘no! 
liberty will blossom from her grave. Germany wall rise to 
avenge the martyrdom of the queen; Germany’s wrath will 
be kindled anew by the sufferings of this august victim that 
Napoleon’s tyranny has wrung from us. Yes, the country 
will rise to avenge Louisa. ’ He gazed at me a long while, and 
his tears ceased to flow. After a prolonged pause he said: 
‘If it be as you say, if Germany take up arms, what will you 
do, Leonora? Will you stay at home, knit, stockings, and 
scrape lint, or will you sacrifice your heart, your blood, your 
life, and be a heroine?’ I exclaimed, joyously : ‘I will sacri- 
fice all to the fatherland, and help to achieve the victory, or 
die on the battle-field!’ The eyes of my old teacher were 
radiant with delight. ‘Swear it to me, Leonora,’ he cried, 
‘swear to me, by all that is sacred — swear by the memory of 
our sainted Queen Louisa!’ I laid my hand on the Bible, and 
swore by the memory of Queen Louisa to fight like a man and a 
hero. I am now about to fulfil my oath, and, as my dear old 
teacher has died, I have adopted his name as my inheritance, 


THEODORE KORNER. 


259 


and call myself Charles Renz. It seems to me it is a doubly 
sacred duty now to be brave, for I must do honor to my teacher’s 
name.” 

“ And you will do so, I am sure,” cried Caroline. “And I 
will do so, too, Leonora. No teacher has impelled me to love 
my native land. This sentiment is spontaneous; perhaps be- 
cause I have nothing else to love. I am alone in the world ; 
my dear parents are dead ; I have no brothers or sisters, no 
lover; and inasmuch as I have nothing to love, I gave up my 
heart to hatred. I hate the French, and, above all, Napoleon, 
who has brought so mucli misery on Europe, and for ten years 
has spilt rivers of blood. It is hatred that has incited me — 
hatred has forced the sword into my hand, and when we go 
into battle, I shall not only call, like you, ‘Long live the 
fatherland!’ but add, ‘Death to the tyrant Napoleon, the 
enemy of the Germans!’ Yes, I hate this Bonaparte more 
intensely than I love my own life ; and, as I could not stab 
him with the needle, with which I made caps and bonnets for 
the fair ladies of Berlin, I have cast it aside, and taken up 
the sword. That is my whole history — the history of the 
ci-devant milliner Caroline Peters, the future horseman 
Charles Petersen.” 

“ What !” ejaculated Leonora, in amazement. “ You intend 
to enlist in the cavalry?” 

“ If they will accept me. I am well versed in horseman- 
ship, for when my father was still living I rode out with him 
every day. He was a much-respected farmer in the suburbs 
of Stralsund, and owned many horses. During the siege of 
Stralsund he lost every thing, and we were reduced to extreme 
poverty. My father died of grief, and since that time I have 
not again mounted a horse. But I think I still know how to 
manage one, and am not afraid of doing so.” 

“But why will you? Why not remain in the infantry, 
which would be much more natural and simple?” 

“ Why? Shall I tell you the truth, Leonora? Let me tell 
you, then, confidentially; it is because long marches would 
incommode me. And you? Would it not be better for you 
to follow my example?” 

“No,” said Leonora, “I shall remain in the infantry, and 
become one of Lutzow’s riflemen — a member of the Legion of 
Vengeance. — I believe we have arrived at the house designated 
to us. Major von Lutzow lives here ; the numerous volunteers 
who are going in and out show that we have reached his 


260 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


headquarters. Now, Caroline, farewell! and let me greet 
you, friend Charles Petersen!” 

“Leonora, farewell! and let me greet you, friend Charles 
Renz !” They shook hands and looked into each other’s glow- 
ing faces. 

“Forward now, comrade!” said Caroline, walking toward 
the house. 

“Forward!” echoed Leonora, jubilantly. 

Arm in arm they walked across the gloomy hall to the low, 
brown door, entering the room pointed out to them as Major 
von Liitzow’s recruiting-office. It was a large, low room; 
long tables, painted brown, such as are to be found in small 
taverns or beer-saloons, stood on both sides of the smoky 
whitewashed walls; low stools, of the same description, were 
beside them, and constituted, with the tables, the only furni- 
ture of this hall, where the citizens and mechanics had 
formerly taken their beer, and where now the volunteers came 
to take the oath of fidelity to the fatherland and Major von 
Liitzow. In the middle of this room stood a young lady of 
rare beauty. A plain black dress enveloped her form, reach- 
ing to her neck and veiling her bust. Her face was very 
white and delicate, a complexion to be found only among the 
fair daughters of the North ; her blond hair fell down in heavy 
ringlets beside her faintly-flushed cheeks; a fervent light was 
beaming from her large light-blue eyes. 

“ That is Madame von Liitzow, to whoin. the travellers in 
the stage-coach alluded,” said Leonora to herself; “ it is the 
count’s noble daughter, who poured a glass of water over her 
hand because a Frenchman had kissed it, and who descended 
from her father’s castle to marry a poor Prussian officer, whom 
she loved for the scars on his forehead.” 

The beautiful lady approached the two young volunteers 
with a sweet, winning smile. “ You wish to see Major von 
Liitzow, do you not?” she inquired. “ Unfortunately, he is 
not at home; pressing business matters prevent him from 
personally welcoming the young heroes who wish to join him. 
He has charged me with doing so in his place, and you may 
believe that I bid you welcome with as joyous a heart as my 
husband would do.” 

“ Oh, we are so happy to be received by you,” said Leonora, 
smiling, “ for we were told at Berlin of noble and beautiful 
Madame von Liitzow enlisting the Legion of Vengeance, and 
who is so true a representative of the great idea of our strug- 


THEODORE KORNER. 


261 


gle. For our struggle is oue both of vengeance and love. 
Since then we have longed to be enlisted by you, madame, 
and to take our oath of fidelity.” 

“I accept it in the name of Major von Lutzow,” said the 
lady, with a gentle smile. “ Here are your numbers, and now 
give me your names that I may enter them in the recruiting 
book.” She approached the table on which the large open 
book was lying, and quickly noted down the names which the 
two volunteers gave, affixing the numbers already given. 
“Now, then,” she said, kindly, nodding to them, “you are 
enlisted in the sacred service of the fatherland, and I hope 
you will do your duty. I hope you — ” 

At this moment the door was opened hastily, and a young 
man rushed into the room. 

“Theodore Korner!” ejaculated the lady, greeting him 
cordially. 

“Yes, Madame von Lutzow, it is I,” exclaimed the young 
man, saluting the two volunteers — “ it is I, and I come to you 
a prey to boundless despair!” 

Madame von Lutzow hastened to him, and looked with an 
expression of heart-felt sympathy into his handsome, pale 
face. 

“ Yes, indeed,” she said, “ your face looks like a cloud from 
which thunder and lightning may be expected at any moment. 
What is the matter? What has happened to you, my poet 
and hero?” 

“ Come, let us go,” whispered Caroline to her friend. 

“No, let us stay,” said Leonora, in a low voice. “If it is 
a secret, they will bid us go ; but I should like to know what 
ails the fine-looking young man whom Madame von Lutzow 
calls a poet and a hero. Ob, I have never yet seen a poet, 
and this one is so handsome!” 

“Let us sit down on this bench,” whispered Caroline, 
“ and — ” 

“Hush, let us listen!” said Leonora, sitting down. 

“It is not that, then?” exclaimed the lady, who in the 
mean time had continued her conversation with the young 
man. “ Your father has not rebuked his son for the quick 
resolve he had taken.” 

“No, no,” said Theodore Korner, hastily, “on the con- 
trary, my father approves my determination to enlist, and 
sends me his blessing. I received a very touching letter from 
him this morning.” 




NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ It is his affianced bride, then, that has driven our poet to 
despair, because lie loves her more ardently than the father- 
land,” said Madame von Lutzow. “ It is true, I cannot blame 
her for it, for the woman that loves has but one country — the 
heart of her lover, and she is homeless as soon it turns from 
her. But this is precisely the grand and beautiful sacrifice — • 
that you give up for the sake of your country all tha# we 
otherwise call the greatest and holiest blessings of life — your 
affianced bride ; your pleasant, comfortable existence ; a fine, 
honorable position, and a future full of a poet’s fame and 
splendor. It is, indeed, a sacrifice, but a sacrifice for which 
the fatherland will thank you, and which will incite thousands 
to emulate your noble example.” 

“Would it were so!” exclaimed Korner, enthusiastically, 
raising his large black eyes to heaven ; “ would that our patri- 
otic ardor struck all hearts like a thunderbolt, and kindled a 
conflagration, whose flames would shed a lustre over the re- 
motest times! I do not deny that I felt how great was the 
sacrifice I made, but this very feeling filled me with enthusi- 
asm. All the stars of my happiness were shining upon me in 
mild beauty, but I was not allowed to look up to them because 
it was the night of adversity; but now that this night is about 
to vanish, and a new morning is dawning, my stars, too, must 
fade before the sun of liberty. That was the sacred conviction 
which drove me away from Vienna, from my betrothed bride, 
and caused me to cast aside all that otherwise imparts value to 
life. A great era requires great hearts. I felt strong enough 
to go out and bare my breast to the storm. Could I do noth- 
ing but sing songs in honor of my victorious brethren? No 
one would have then loved and esteemed me any longer; my 
parents would have been ashamed of me, and my affianced 
bride would have contemptuously turned away from the 
cowardly poet. Therefore, I gave up every thing for the sake 
of my native land. It is true, my parents and my Emma will 
weep for me. May God comfort them ! I could not spare 
them this blow. It is not much that I risk my life; but that 
this life is adorned with love, friendship, and joy, and that 
I nevertheless risk it, is a sacrifice that can be compensated 
only by love of country, more sacred than any other love, and 
to it we should devote our life.* My noble father feels and 
knows this, and so does my betrothed.” 

* His own words.— Vide “Theodore Korner’s Works,” edited by Carl Streckfuss, 
p. 54. 


THEODORE KORNER. 


203 


“ And yet, agreed though you are with yourself and your 
dear ones, why this despair?” asked Madame von Liitzow, 
with a smile. 

Korner looked down in confusion, and then raised his 
flaming eyes with a strange expression. “Ah, madame,” he 
exclaimed, “I divine your stratagem; it is that of an angel, 
and, therefore, worthy of you.” 

“What stratagem do you mean?” she asked, with a sem- 
blance of surprise. 

“ The angelic stratagem by which you comforted me in my 
grief, without knowing its cause. When I rushed so im- 
politely into this room, I told you that I was in despair. And 
you, instead of urging me to tell you at once the cause of it, 
inquired for the great affairs of my life, and whether my 
affliction came from my parents or my affianced bride. You 
thereby wished to admonish me that these momentous affairs 
and relations of my life, not having lost their harmony, my 
grief was, perhaps, but a passing dissonance, and that it really 
might not be worth while to give way to despair on account of 
it. I am sure, madame, I have understood you : was not this 
the object of your questions?” 

Madame von Liitzow nodded gently. “ You have under- 
stood me,” she said. “I think in all our grievances we 
should, before giving way to vexation or despair, lay the great 
questions of life before us, and inquire whether that which 
weighs us down touches them, whether it strikes at our true 
happiness. Now, if this is not the case, we should bear the 
grievance lightly, and not consider it a misfortune. To feel 
greatly what is great, and to heed little what is little, is the 
true wisdom of life.” 

“You are right, as you always are,” said Theodore Korner, 
reverentially bowing to the beautiful lady, “ and let me peni- 
tently confess, then, that I have this time heeded greatly what 
is little and have considered what grieved me a great mis- 
fortune. But now that I have confessed my guilt, the 
guardian angel of the volunteers must have mercy upon me 
and come to my assistance. For something very unpleasant 
has really befallen me, and no philosophy can dispute it.” 

“Well, confess what it is,” exclaimed Madame von Liitzow, 
smiling. 

“ You know, madame, that our Legion of Vengeance is to 
be solemnly consecrated at the village of Rochau, at the foot 
of the Zobtenberg, on Sunday next?” 


2G4 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Of course I do, and I shall accompanay Liitzow and the 
volunteers in order to witness the ceremony.” 

“ At the village church we are all to appear for the first 
time in our black uniforms, to receive the preacher’s blessing, 
and to be consecrated as soldiers of the fatherland. I myself 
have written a poem, adapted to the air of an anthem, for 
this solemn occasion, and all my comrades will sing it. After 
the sermon the volunteers in the church will take the oath of 
war upon the swords of their officers. I have been ardently 
yearning for this day, and now I shall probably be unable to 
participate in its services, for — do not laugh, madame, at my 
insignificant mishap — the tailor refuses to make me a uniform 
by that time, and in citizen’s clothes, as a fashionable dandy, I 
really cannot appear among the brave men who will proudly 
walk about in their litefkaes. The tailor says it is impossible 
for him to make a uniform at so short a notice; he pretends 
to be overwhelmed with work, and does not know where to 
find hands. Now you, the helping, advising, and protecting 
genius of the volunteers, are my last consolation and resort. 
If you send for the cruel tailor, and tell him how important 
it is for me to participate in that ceremony, your words will 
render possible what now he declares impossible. Therefore, 
send for the tailor, madame; he fortunately lives close by, in 
the court-yard, in the large rear building; order him to make 
me a uniform, and he will have to do so, for who could with- 
stand your words?” 

“Well, I will try,” said Madame von Liitzow, smiling. “I 
will see whether my words are so impressive as to move a 
tailor’s heart.” 

“ And if he is unable to comply with your wishes because 
he lacks assistants,” said Leonora, hastily rising from her seat 
near the door, and approaching Korner and Madame von Liit- 
zow, “ I offer myself as an assistant, for I am a tailor.” 

“So am I,” exclaimed Caroline, vividly. “I know, too, 
how to ply the needle, and am ready to assist in sewing a 
comrade’s uniform.” 

“Ah, the volunteers whom I have just enlisted, and whose 
pardon I have to ask for having forgotten them,” cried Ma- 
dame Von Liitzow, smiling. 

“ We have rather to ask your pardon for staying here,” said 
Leonora. “ But we are indebted to you and to the poet Theo- 
dore Korner for the most soul-stirring sentiments, and it 
seems to me as though we have received only now the true 


THEODORE KORNER. 


265 


consecration for the future that lies before us. Now, that I 
know what great sacrifices one may joyously make, I feel how 
incumbent it was upon me to make them too, and I have no 
remorse at leaving my parents and my brothers It is cer- 
tainly true, as the poet said: ‘A great era requires great 
hearts!’ And therefore I will try, to the best of my power, 
to have a great heart, that I may be worthy of our great era.” 

“ A great and noble heart is beaming from your eyes, my 
friend,” said Theodore Korner, offering his hand to Leonora. 
“ I greet you both as dear comrades of mine, and beg you to 
treat me as one.” 

“Yes, we will do so,” exclaimed Caroline, shaking hands 
with the poet. “ And we will prove it directly by going to 
that tailor and offering to assist him in making the uniform 
of our esteemed lieutenant.” 

“Softly, my friend!” laughed Theodore Korner, “I have 
not yet risen so high; I am no lieutenant.” 

“But you will be soon,” said Caroline, ardently; “for 
one may easily read in your face that you are born to com- 
mand, and not to obey. We volunteers are to elect our own 
officers. Well, then, I shall vote for Theodore Korner.” * 

“So shall I!” ejaculated Leonora. 

“ But while indulging in such dreams as to the future, we 
forgot the grim tailor,” said Theodore Korner, smiling. 
“ Madame von Lutzow, I beseech you, pity my distress, and. 
send for him, that your eloquence may soften his heart.” 

“But suppose he does not comply?” asked Madame von 
Lutzow. “ It would be wrong, too, to occupy his time while 
so busy. You say the man lives near?” 

“ Scarcely fifty steps from here.” 

“ Well, then, conduct me to him!” said Madame von Lut- 
zow, “ we will pay a visit to him as Torquato Tasso once went 
to the Duke di Ferrara. You, my two young friends, will 
please accompany us, that we may present to him two willing 
assistants. Come!” 

“ Yes, madame, and may your eloquence prevail!” exclaimed 
Korner, opening the door, and posting himself beside it in 
order to allow the lady to pass out. Graceful and smiling, 
she hastened through the gloomy room and approached the 
door, followed by the two volunteers with their rosy faces and 
bright eyes. When about to cross the threshold, she stood 
and gazed archly at Korner. “ Stop,” she said, “I have to 

* Theodore Korner was elected lieutenant by his comrades on the 24th of April. 

18 


266 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


impose a condition. If we are to assist a poet, he must in 
return pay us a poet’s tribute. I shall not cross this thresh- 
old before you recite one of your new war-songs.” 

“Yes, a song!” cried the two volunteers. 

“Well, you are silent?” asked Madame von Liitzow, smil- 
ing. “ Strike the chords of your lyre, and let us hear a 
battle-hymn !” 

“No, not a battle-hymn,” said Theodore Korner; “that 
requires the accompaniment of clashing arms and booming 
cannon. But to the fair patroness of the Legion of Ven- 
geance I will communicate, although it is not completed, my 
hymn to the guardian angel of German liberty — Queen 
Louisa!” Raising his dark-blue eyes to heaven, he recited 
the following lines, addressed “to Queen Louisa;” 


“ Du Heilige ! hor’ Deiner Kinder Flehen, 

Es dringe machtig auf zu deinem Licht. 

Kannst wieder freundlich auf uns niedersehen 
Verklarter Engel ! langer weine nicht ! 

Denn Preussens Adler soil zum Kampfe wehen. 

Es drangt Dein Volk sieh jubelnd zu der Pflicht, 
Und Jeder wahlt, und keinen siehst du leben, 

Den freien Tod fur ein bezwung'nes Leben. 

“ Wir lagen noch in feige Nacht gebettet ; 

Da rief nach Dir Dein besseres Geschick, 

An die unwiird’ge Zeit warst Du gekettet, 

Zur Racbe mahnte Dein gebroch’ner Blick. 

So hast Du uns den deutschen Muth gerettet. 

Jetzt sieh auf uns, sieh auf Dein Volk zuriick, 
Wie alle Herzen treu und muthig brennen ! 

Nun wolP uns auch die Deinen wieder nennen ! 

“ Und wie einst, alle Krafte zu beleben, 

Ein Heil’genbild, fur den gerechten Krieg 
Dem Heeresbanner schiitzend zugegeben, 

Als Oriflamme in die Liifte stieg : 

So soil Dein Bild auf unsern Fahnen schweben, 

Und soli uns leuchten durch die Nacht zum Sieg ! 
Louise sei der Schutzgeist deutscher Sache ! 

Louise sei das Losungswort zur Rache ! ” * 


“ Louisa shall be the guardian 
and the battle-cry of vengeance!” 


angel of the German cause 
echoed the two volunteers. 


* O sainted one ! now let thy children’s prayer, 

As incense, rise to realms of heavenly light ; 
Beholding us thou canst with gladness hear, 

And tears no more may dim thy vision bright : 
For Prussia’s standard in the battle near 
Will nerve thy people to their ancient might. 

Thy sons in crowded ranks await the strife, 
Preferring a free death to slavery’s life. 

Enthralled in long and timid gloom we lay ; 

When Heaven recalled thee, and thy fetters broke 
Which bound thee to thy times’ unworthy sway, 
Thy dying eyes of future vengeance spoke. 


THE HEROIC TAILOR. 


267 


Madame von Liitzow said nothing. She stood, with her 
white hands clasped, as if in prayer, and her sweet face turned 
heavenward. Tears were glittering in her eyes; and, giving 
her hand to the poet, she said in a low voice: “You have 
paid us a tribute worthy of you. Thanks ! And now come !” 
She quickly crossed the threshold toward the court-yard. 
Korner was by her side; Leonora and Caroline, the two volun- 
teers, followed her. 

“ The four windows on the ground-floor yonder are those of 
the tailor’s shop,” said Korner. 

Madame von Liitzow nodded, and walked across the wide 
court-yard toward the house. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE HEROIC TAILOR. 


The tailor and his hands were very busy. All sorts of 
colored cloths and pieces of uniforms were lying about. On 
the bench, in the middle of the room, sat four workmen, hard 
at work. Not a word interrupted the silence now desecrated 
by the noise of the opening door. He who sat on a somewhat 
raised seat, and was just braiding a magnificent scarlet hussar- 
jacket, hastily looked up. His hand, armed with his needle, 
had just risen and remained suspended; his eyes, which he 
had at first raised carelessly from his work, were fixed on the 
door, which framed so unusual and attractive a picture — a 
young lady of surpassing beauty, surrounded by three youthful 
soldiers, who looked very fine and imposing, too, and whose 
looks were turned to him with a kind and inquiring expression. 

“You are M. Martin, the merchant tailor, are you not?” 
asked the lady, greeting the tailor with a gentle nod. 

“That is my name,” said M. Martin, involuntarily rising 
from his seat. 

Thus didst thou save on that sad final day 
The German honor, and our courage woke. 

Behold us now, as we all fear resign, 

With glowing hearts, and once more call us thine 1 

As erst to serried legions in the field, 

A sacred symbol, as a golden flame, 

Lit up the battle-standard, and revealed 
For whom the victory’s just though bloody claim : 

So let us, ’neath thy bannered image, wield 
A valiant sword— our “ oriflamme ” thy name— 

The pledge of honor and the gathering cry, 

To live for Prussia’s glory, or to die l 


268 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Well, then, my dear sir,” said the lady, advancing a few 
steps into the shop, “ I should like to say a word to you.” 

“ Yes, I imagine what it is,” exclaimed the tailor, who fixed 
his eyes now upon Theodore Korner, and recognized his tor- 
mentor. “ The gentleman has been here twice already about 
a uniform for Sunday. But I could not make it, if an angel 
descended from heaven to entreat me.” 

“Well, I thank you for your compliment,” said Madame 
von Liitzow, smiling. “ But tell me now, sir, why can you 
not accommodate him?” 

“ Because I have more work now than I am able to finish. 
I was rash enough to accept so many orders, that I do not 
know how I shall be able to fill them ; and in the excitement 
and confusion prevalent in the city it is impossible to get as- 
sistance at present.” 

“Well, if that is the only reason, we bring you fresh help. 
These two young volunteers are ready to work under your 
supervision, and finish the uniform of their comrade.” 

The tailor glanced toward the two young volunteers. 
“ Lads, scarcely sixteen years old!” he said, shrugging his 
shoulders; “it is impossible that *they can be experienced 
artists.” 

“But both affirm that they are tailors,” said Madam von 
Liitzow, “and skilled in their trade.” 

“Yes, sir, please give us a trial,” begged Leonora. 

“We are quick and skilful workmen,” protested Caroline. 

“ Regular tailors?” asked M. Martin. 

“Yes, regular tailors,” replied Leonora. 

“Very well. Finish this collar; the needle is still in it,” 
said M. Martin, handing the scarlet soldier- jacket to Leonora. 

The young volunteer blushed, and said in a low voice: 
“ To be sure, sir, I must ask you to show me how to do it, for 
I have never yet worked on men’s clothes.” 

“A ladies’ tailor?” exclaimed M. Martin, with an expres- 
sion of boundless contempt. “The other one, too?” 

“Yes, I also am a ladies’ tailor,” said Caroline, smiling. 

“ And they are bold enough to offer their assistance to me ! ” 
exclaimed M. Martin, shrugging his shoulders. 

“ It is only necessary for you to give them proper directions, 
sir,” said Madame von Liitzow, entreatingly, “for as they 
know how to ply the needle they will easily understand what 
to do.” 

“ And if the uniform should not fit well, or be badly made, 


THE HEROIC TAILOR. 


269 


it will be laid at my door, and M. Martin will be blamed for 
it. I assure you I cannot take the job; I am short of work- 
men of the necessary experience. No one wants to work now- 
adays — all heads are turned — all young men are enlisting.” 

“No, sir,” said the lady, “all heads are turned right again 
— to one thing necessary at this time — to the service of the 
fatherland.” 

“Bah! my shop is my fatherland,” said the tailor, con- 
temptuously. 

“That is not true,” exclaimed Madame von Lutzow, “you 
do not and cannot think so. For if you did, you would be no 
Prussian, no German, and no one could love and respect you. 
During the period of adversity and disgrace, your shop may 
have been a comfort to you ; but now that the sun of liberty 
is rising, all hearts must throb joyously; all must go out and 
gaze upon the new world ; the shop no longer contains the 
work worthy of a freeman — it is to be found only on the 
battle-field — deliverance of the country!” 

“ The lady is right!” exclaimed the tailor’s three assistants, 
who had hitherto looked up but stealthily from their work, 
but now cast it aside with impetuosity. “ Yes, the lady is 
right! It is a shame for honest men to sit here in this room 
and ply the needle, while our friends and brethren are draw- 
ing the sword and marching out to the holy war of liberation. 
We must also participate in the great struggle!” 

“ Oh, yes,” cried the tailor, in grim despair, “now my last 
workmen are coaxed away from me! You have taken the 
money I otfered you when you entered my service, and as hon- 
est men you must keep your word. Resume your work ! You 
know well that we are very busy.” 

The men commenced their work again with morose faces, 
whispering to each other : “ As soon as the week has expired, 
we shall leave the shop and enlist.” 

“Well, madame, what do you wish?” exclaimed the tailor, 
furiously. “You have come to give me a job, and at the 
same time you disparage my business, and seduce my workmen 
to leave me. I shall soon have to close my shop.” 

“ But you will not do so, dear M. Martin, before having made 
a uniform for this young man,” said Madame von Lutzow, in an 
entreating tone and with a sweet smile. “ I have certainly not 
come to disparage your honorable business, for what should 
we do without the skilful tailor, who makes the uniforms of our 
soldiers and fits them out, as it were, for the service of their 


270 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


country? Oh, I am sure that you have worked at them with 
grand reflections, since this labor is more agreeable to you 
than if you had to make the most gorgeous suit for a chamber- 
lain, and it gladdens you to think: ‘I am likewise working 
hard for the fatherland. I am in my own way a soldier of the 
country; for I devote to it my skill and labor.’ ” 

“That is true,” said M. Martin, in confusion, “and that 
you may not believe me to be a worse man than I really am, 
I must tell you that I do not take pay for these jobs, but that 
I have offered to make twelve uniforms for our soldiers free of 
charge. I have nothing else to offer ; hence, I give all I can !” 

“And there is no nobler gift!” exclaimed Madame von 
Liiztow. “ You are a good man ; pray give me your hand and 
let me thank you. ” She offered her hand to the tailor, and 
he put his broad, cold hand timidly into it. 

“ Oh, now I fear nothing,” said Madame von Liitzow, joy- 
fully ; “ as you are so good a patriot, you will fulfil our prayer, 
and make a uniform for this young man for next Sunday.” 

“But I have told you already that I cannot,” replied M. 
Martin, almost tearfully — “ I cannot finish it.” 

“And I reply: Try, sir! I am sure you will finish it. 
For, take into consideration, dear M. Martin, that your own 
reputation is at stake, and that all the brave volunteers would 
execrate your name if it should be your fault that their favor- 
ite and celebrated bard could not attend the Sunday’s cere- 
mony.” 

“ How so? What bard do you allude to, madame?” 

“ I allude to the great poet who stands before you — Theo- 
dore Korner.” 

“Ah, this is Theodore Korner!” exclaimed the tailor. 
“The poet who wrote ‘Toni,’ the splendid comedy that I saw 
last winter at our theatre?” 

“The same, my dear sir,” said Madame von Lutzow, while 
Korner nodded to the tailor with a pleasant smile. “ And he 
has written many other beautiful plays, and magnificent songs 
to boot. This is the reason why, though he is only twenty- 
one years old, he is famous throughout Germany, and at 
Vienna occupied a brilliant position. He is affianced to a 
dear, sweet young woman, whom he loves with all his heart, 
and to whom he was to be married within a month; but sud- 
denly the battle-cry of freedom resounded throughout Ger- 
many, the King of Prussia called upon the able-bodied young 
men to volunteer and avenge the disgrace of Germany, and 


THE HEROIC TAILOR. 


271 


see what love of country can accomplish ! The young man 
casts aside every thing — he gives up all, his fame, his be- 
trothed, his position, and hastens with enthusiasm to offer his 
arm and Jiis services — to exchange his poetical fame and his 
earthly happiness for victory or an honorable death on the 
battle-field.” 

“ Oh, that is really glorious,” cried the men, striking with 
their clinched right hands their knee, as though it were a 
recruiting-drum. 

“Yes, it is so,” said M. Martin, thoughtfully, to himself. 

“Madame,” whispered the poet, smiling, “you make me 
blush by your too kind praise.” 

“ Is it my fault that a plain statement of the facts in the 
case is such praise for you?” asked Madame von Liitzovv. 
“For I have told you the truth, M. Martin, and all happened 
precisely as I have stated it. He has given up all to enlist. 
Vainly do his parents and his loved one weep for him. He 
hears nothing — sees nothing — for his country calls him, and 
he obeys. He does not desire happiness before his country is 
free, and sweeter than the most blissful life seems to him a 
glorious death for the fatherland. So he has come ; the volun- 
teers greeted him with shouts of exultation, and they believe 
now that Providence will cause their arms and their bravery 
to be successful, since an inspired bard will take the field with 
them, and endow them with redoubled ardor by his songs. 
But, before taking the field, they wish to implore God’s bless- 
ing at the altar, and on Sunday next all those who are already 
uniformed and equipped are to take the oath of war and be 
consecrated. Theodore Korner has written for the occasion a 
pious hymn, which all the volunteers will sing, and now how 
can you be so cruel as to prevent him from singing his own 
hymn with them?” 

“I?” cried the tailor, in dismay. 

“ Yes, you ! For, if you do not accommodate him, he can- 
not be present.” 

M. Martin heaved a profound sigh, and cast a glance of 
despair around his shop. “ There are still three hussar-jackets 
to be finished,” he murmured. “If it were but a hussar- 
uniform that the gentleman asks for! But he does not wish 
to join the hussars?” 

“ No, my friend. I enlist in the Legion of Vengeance, and 
become one of Major von Lutzow’s volunteer riflemen. It 
will, therefore, be less troublesome to suit me.” 


272 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ But that dress is not near as showy as the other,” said the 
tailor, morosely. “ An entirely black uniform with red trim- 
mings on the sleeves looks sad, and — cruel.” 

“ And that is as it ought to be, my dear sir. The black 
color signifies our grief, the red signifies blood.” 

And suddenly he commenced to sing: 

•* Noeh trauern wir im schwarzen Racherkleide 
Um den gestorbnen Muth, 

Doch fragt man Euch, was dieses Roth bedeute; 

Das deutet Frankenblut ! 

% 

“ Mit Gott!— Einst geht hoch iiber Feindesleichen 
Der Stern des Friedens auf ; 

Dann pflanzen wir ein weisses Siegeszeichen 
Am freien Rheinstrom auf.” * 


“ Then we shall raise a white symbol of our victory on the 
hanks of the free Rhine!” echoed the volunteers, and the 
tailor and his assistants. 

“M. Martin!” cried Madame von Liitzow, laughing, “you 
have forgotten yourself; you have joined in the chorus!” 

“Yes, it is true,” he said, “I have sung these few words 
with them; they make my heart swell, and — I do not know 
what has happened to me — it seems to me the song and all 
you have said make another man of me, and — ” 

“You will make the uniform for Theodore Korner?” asked 
Madame von Liitzow, smiling. 

M. Martin was silent, and quickly raised his head and 
looked at his assistants, who were gazing at him inquiringly. 

“ You have made up your minds, then?” he asked; “when 
the week is up, and your jobs are finished, you intend to leave 
me, and volunteer?” 

“Yes, we have come to that determination,” replied the 
three, unanimously, “ and nothing shall prevent us from carry- 
ing it out.” 

“Well, then, I must close my shop, and discontinue the 
tailoring business.” 

“But what do you intend to do, then, sir?” asked one of 
the journeymen, in surprise. 

“I intend to enlist!” replied M. Martin. “This beautiful 

♦ By this black uniform we ever mourn 
The public spirit dead ! 

And why is then this crimson facing worn? — 

With Frenchmen’s blood it’s red. 

When high above vast heaps of slaughtered foes, 

The star of peace shall shine, 

The banner white, which victory bestows, 

Raise by our own free Rhine. 


THE HEROIC TAILOR. 


273 


lady and the song have enchanted me. Hurrah! I also will 
enlist!” 

“ But my uniform?” asked Korner. 

“ Oh, you need not be concerned,” exclaimed the tailor, in 
a proud tone ; “ it shall be made ! I will work all night, and 
not lay aside my needle before it is done. Will you help me, 
journeymen?” 

“Yes, sir, we will !” 

“ And you, too, volunteers? It is true, you are only ladies’ 
tailors, but you know at least how to line and pad a coat. 
Will you take the job?” 

“Yes, M. Martin, we will joyously do so,” cried Leonora 
and Caroline. 

“Well, then, we can finish two uniforms by Sunday — one 
for the poet, the other for myself!” 

“My dear sir, I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” 
said Madame von Lutzow; and then, turning her radiant face 
to Korner, she asked, “Are you now satisfied?” 

“Ah, I knew well that no one could resist you, and that 
you are our good angel,” whispered the poet, pressing the 
hand of the lovely lady to his lips. 

“But listen, M. Korner,” said the tailor; “if I am to work 
for you so industriously, I must impose a condition, and you 
must promise to fulfil it.” 

“ What is it?” 

“ It is that you shall not pay me for my labor.” 

“ But, sir, it is impossible for me to — ” 

Madame von Lutzow laid her hand softly on his shoulder. * 
“I am sure you do not wish to offend this excellent man?” 
she whispered. 

“ It is impossible for me to take pay for a favor which I do 
to one of my future comrades,” said M. Martin. “ I suppose 
that is what you wanted to say, and you are right. But if 
you insist on indemnifying me, there is another way for you 
to do so.” 

“ Pray tell me.” 

“You sang two verses, which sounded so bold and fresh 
that they touched my heart. Was that the whole song, or are 
there any more verses?” 

“No, sir, they are the two last; three others precede them.” 

“Well, comrade,” said M. Martin, gayly, “jf you insist on 
my doing my last tailoring job for you, then sing me the other 
three.” 


274 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Korner glanced inquiringly at Madame Liitzow. “ I do 
not know,” he said, hesitatingly, “ if madame will permit it?” 

Madame von Liitzow smiled. “ I not only permit, but 
pray you to sing,” she said. “Give us the whole song, and 
let us all join in the refrain. Come, brave soldiers of the 
future! cast aside your work, form in line, and sing with us 
the song of the Black Riflemen!” 

The three journeymen jumped up, and posted themselves 
beside M. Martin. The lady again withdrew to the door. 
On both sides stood the two young volunteers, with their 
blooming faces, and between these two groups stood the tall 
and noble form of the young poet, whose fine face beamed 
with courage and energy, and on whose brow genius had 
pressed the kiss of inspiration. 

“Now, listen attentively!” said Theodore Korner, smiling. 
“ My song is easy to sing, for who is ignorant of the song of 
the Rhenish wine? Let us sing it to that melody!” 

And through the tailor’s shop, hitherto so peaceful and 
silent, resounded the song of the Black Riflemen : 


“ In’s Feld, in’s Feld, die Rachegeister mahnen, 

Auf, deutsches V oik, zum Krieg ! 

In’s Feld, in’s Feld ! Hoch flattern unsere Fahnen, 

Sie fiihren uns zum Sieg ! 

“ Klein ist die Schaar, doch gross ist das Vertrauen 
Auf den gerechten Gott ! 

Wo seine Eugel thre Veste bauen, 

Sind Ildllenkunste Spott. 

“ Gebt kein Pardon ! Konnt Ihr das Schwert nicht heben, 

So wiirgt sie ohne Scheu ! 

Und hoch verkauft den letzten Tropfen Leben, 

Der Tod macht Alle frei 1 ” * 

* To the field! the spirits of vengeance cry; 

Rise, and your country save! 

Uplift your eagle banners to the sky — 

For victory they wave ! 

In number small, but great our confidence 
In a just God’s decree; 

When His own angels build our sure defence, 

Vain is hell’s strategy. 

No quarter give, but strike the fatal blow, 

Dear let your life-blood be; 

Ask not for mercy, and to none bestow. 

For death makes all men free. 

This whole scene is based on facts, for which I am indebted to personal communi- 
cations from the Countess Ahlefeldt. Theodore Korner fell in the first year of the 
war of liberation, before the decisive battle of Leipsio, on the 26th of August, 1813, in 
a skirmish which the corps of Major von Liitzow had with the French near Gade- 
busch. Only an hour prior to his death, while lying in ambush, he wrote his im- 
mortal “Song of the Sword” in his note-book. The statement of Mr. Alison, the 
historian, that he was killed in the battle of Dresden, is erroneous. 

Leonora Prohaska fell in an engagement on the Gorde, the 16th of September, 
1813. A bullet pierced her breast. When she felt that she was dying, she revealed 


THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF OF THE SILESIAN ARMY. 275 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF OF THE SILESIAN ARMY. 

General Blucher was more morose and dejected than he 
had been for a long time. From the day he heard of the 
^king’s arrival at Breslau, and immediately left his farm of 
Kunzendorf to repair to that city, a perpetual sunshine lit up 
his face, and a new spring bloomed in his heart. But now 
the old clouds of Kunzendorf were again lowering on his 
brow, and a frost seemed to have blighted all the blossoms of 
his hope. 

He sat on the sofa, closely wrapped in his dressing-gown, 
drumming with his hand a quickstep on the table in front of 
him, while he was blowing clouds of smoke from his long pipe. 
Very gloomy thoughts appeared to fill Blucher’s soul, for his 
bushy eyebrows contracted, the quickstep was more rapid, 
and the smoke arose in denser masses. In the violence of his 
inward trouble, he grimly shook his head without thinking of 
the fragile friend in his mouth. Its delicate form struck 
against the corner of the table and broke into pieces. 

“ So,” muttered Blucher to himself, “ that was just wanting 
to my afflictions. It is the second pipe broken to-day. Well, 
there will be a day when Bonaparte shall pay me these pipes 
that he has already cost me. That day must come, or there 
is no justice in Heaven. Christian! 0 Christian!” 

The door opened. Christian Hennemann appeared on the 
threshold, awaiting the orders of the general. 

“ Another wounded pipe, Christian,” said Blucher, point- 
ing at the pieces on the floor. “ Pick them up, and see if 
there is not a short pipe among them.” 

“No, your excellency,” said Christian, approaching and 
carefully picking up the pieces, “ that is no wounded pipe, but 
a dead one. Shall I fetch another to your excellency?” 

He was about to turn away, but Blucher seized the lap of 
his hussar- jacket. “Show me the broken pipe,” he said, 
anxiously; “let me see if it really will not do any more.” 

to her comrades that she was a woman, and that her name was Leonora Prohaska, 
and not Charles Renz. , . , . , .. 0 . 0 

Caroline Peters was more fortunate. She participated in the campaigns of 1813 
and 1814, was decorated with the order of the Iron Cross on account of her bravery, 
and honorably discharged at the end ofvthe war. She was then married to the cap- 
tain of an English vessel whom she accompanied on his travels, and with whom she 
visited her relatives at Stettin in 1844.— L. M. 


276 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


“ Well, look at it, your excellency,” said the pipe-master, in 
a dignified tone, holding up the bowl with a very small part 
of the tube. “ It is impossible for you to use it again. If 
I should fill the bowl with tobacco and light it, your excellency, 
it would assuredly burn your nose.” 

“That is true,” said Blucher, mournfully; “I believe you 
are right. I might burn my nose, and that would be 
altogether unnecessary now. I burn it here at Breslau every 
day.” 

“ How did you do it?” asked Christian, in dismay. “ Your 
excellency has not yet smoked short pipes.” 

“Because I am myself like a short pipe,” cried Blucher, 
with a grim smile, “ or because the miserable, sneaking ver- 
min at court — well, what does it concern you? Why do you 
stand and stare at me? Go, Christian, and fetch me a new 
pipe.” 

“What, a new pipe!” asked a voice by his side. “Why, 
Blucher, you are still in your dressing-gown!” 

It was his wife who had just entered the room by the side- 
door and approached her husband without being noticed. She 
was in full toilet, her head adorned with plumes, her delicate 
form wrapped in a heavy dark satin dress, trimmed with costly 
silver lace. Her neck and ears were ornamented with jewelry 
in which large diamonds shone; in her hand, radiant with 
valuable rings, she held a huge fan, inlaid with pearls and 
precious stones. 

“Yes, Amelia, I am still in my dressing-gown,” said 
Blucher, gloomily gazing at his wife. “Why, you are splen- 
didly dressed to-day! What is it for? — and whither do you 
design to go?” 

“Whither!” exclaimed the lady, in surprise. “But, hus- 
band, do you forget, then, the festival to take place to-night?” 

“Well, what is it?” asked Blucher, slowly drawing his long 
white mustache through his fingers. 

“ Blucher, to-night the great ball takes place which the city 
of Breslau gives at the city hall in honor of the Emperor of 
Russia, when both their majesties will appear.” 

“Well, what does that concern me?” 

“ It concerns you a great deal, for you have solemnly prom- 
ised the burgomaster, who came personally to invite us, that 
you would attend the ball to-night.” 

“And I shall not go to it after all, Amelia,” cried Blucher, 
striking with his hand on the table. “ Ho, Amelia! I am no 


THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF OF THE SILESIAN ARMY. 277 


dancing-bear to turn around at a ball, and to be led by the 
nose.” 

“ But, Blucher, what has happened to you?” asked his wife, 
wonderingly. “You were as merry and high-spirited as a 
young god of spring; the violets laughed when they saw you 
pass by, and the snow-drops rang their tiny bells in your 
honor, and now suddenly it is winter again ! Pray, tell me, 
what has happened to you?” 

“Nothing at all has happened to me — that is just the mis- 
fortune,” cried Blucher. “It is more than a month now 
since I have been sitting here at Breslau, and nothing has 
happened. I am still what I always was — an old pensioned 
general, who has no command, and nothing to do but to retire 
to Kunzendorf and plant cabbage-heads, while others in the 
field are cutting off French heads. And it will be best for 
me to go back to Kunzendorf. I have nothing to do here ; 
no one cares for an old fellow like me. I have hoped on from 
day to day, but all my hopes are gone now. Amelia, take off 
your tinsel, and pack up our traps. The best thing we can do 
will be to start this very evening and return to our miserable, 
accursed village!” 

“Dear me! what a humor you are in!” exclaimed his wife. 
“ Every thing will be right in the end, my husband; you must 
not despair; things are only taking their course a little more 
deliberately than my firebrand wishes. But finally all will be 
precisely as you want it, for without Blucher they are unable 
to accomplish any thing, and will, therefore, at last resort to 
him.” 

“And I tell you they will try to get along without me,” 
cried Blucher; “ I shall be a disgraced man, at whom the very 
chickens will laugh, if he has to sneak back to Kunzendorf 
instead of taking the field. Pack up, Amelia, we shall leave 
this day!” 

“But that is impossible, Blucher! It would look like a 
cowardly flight, and your enemies would rejoice over it. No, 
you must go to the ball to-night; you — •” 

“General Scharnhorst !” announced a footman at this mo- 
ment, and there appeared in the open door the general, 
dressed in his gala-uniform, and his breast decked with orders. 

“I am glad you have come, general,” exclaimed Amelia, 
hastening to him, and shaking hands with her friend. “ Look 
at that stubborn old man, who does not wish to go to the ball! 
Say yourself, general, must he not go?” 


278 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Certainly he must,” said Scharnhorst, smiling, “and I 
come to beg of you a seat in your carriage, and to let me have 
the honor of appearing in the suite of General and Madame 
von Blucher. You had, therefore, better dress at once, my 
dear general. It is high time. Even their majesties have 
already set out.” 

Blucher gently shook his head, and slowly raised his eyes 
toward Scharnhorst, who stood in front of him. “ Scharn- 
horst,” he said, “every thing turns out wrong, and I wish 
myself dead rather than see such a state of affairs.” 

“What do you mean, general?” inquired Scharnhorst. 
“What has happened?” 

Blucher cast a piercing glance on him, and seemed to read 
in the depths of his soul. “ Is the matter settled?” he asked. 
“ Pray, my friend, tell me the truth without circumlocution. 
It is better for me to know it at once than allow this incerti- 
tude longer to gnaw at my heart. Scharnhorst, I implore 
you, tell me the truth! Has the commander of the Silesian 
army been appointed?” 

“Ho, general,” said Scharnhorst, gravely. 

“And you do not know whom they will appoint? The 
truth, my friend!” 

“ Well, then, the truth is, that I do not know it, and that 
their majesties themselves do not know it, although every 
patriot thinks they ought not to doubt which of the three 
gentlemen who stand on the list should be appointed, for 
every heart echoes, ‘General Blucher is the man whom we 
need, and who will lead us to victory. ’ The emperor and the 
king are still vacillating; precious time is lost — Napoleon is 
organizing new armies, and strengthening himself on all sides, 
while they are hesitating.” 

“Three, then, stand on the list,” said Blucher. “I have 
two competitors. Who are they, general?” 

“ One is Field-Marshal Kalkreuth.” 

Blucher started, and his eyes flashed with anger. “ What !” 
he cried. “That childish old man to command an army! 
He who is constantly singing hymns of praise to Napoleon and 
his French — he who, only the other day, showed again that 
he deemed a frown of Bonaparte more terrible than the peril 
of a German patriot! He command an army to vanquish 
Napoleon! I suppose you know what he has done? He be- 
trayed to the French ambassador, Count St. Marsan, who fol- 
lowed our king to Breslau in order to watch him, that Minister 


THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF OF THE SILESIAN ARMY. 279 


von Stein, our noblest friend, had secretly come for the pur- 
pose of negotiating with the king in the name of the Emperor 
of Russia; that he was living in a garret, and that conferences 
of the enemies of Napoleon were held there every night.” * 

“ Yes, that is true,” said Scharnhorst, “ Field-Marshal Kalk- 
reuth did so, and it is no fault of his that Baron von Stein, 
with his friends, one of whom I happen to he, was not secretly 
seized and carried off by the French. Fortunately, dear 
Count St. Marsan did not believe the field-marshal who be- 
trayed his German countryman. The French ambassador 
allowed himself to be deceived by the stillness that reigned in 
the garret, which, according to the statement Kalkreuth made 
to him, was inhabited by dangerous Minister von Stein.” f 

“Well, and this man, the head of the French party, they 
wish to appoint general-in-chief of the Silesian army,” said 
Blucher, mournfully. “Amelia, pack up our traps; let us 
return to Kunzendorf.” 

“ But Field-Marshal Kalkreuth has not yet been appointed,” 
said Scharnhorst, smiling; “I believe his two competitors 
have as good — nay, better prospects than he has.” 

“It is true, I forgot the second competitor,” grumbled 
Blucher. “ Who is it; ” 

“ It is Lieutenant-General Count Tauentzien, in w T hom the 
Emperor Alexander takes a great deal of interest.” 

“Of course,” said Blucher, sarcastically, “he is a count, 
and he has such a polish, and courtly manners; he knows how 
to flatter the sovereigns, and tell them only what is agreeable. 
But now, you yourself must admit, Scharnhorst, that it is 
best for me to set out immediately for Kunzendorf, and that I 
have no prospects — none whatever ! The two sovereigns, the 
king and emperor, alone will make the appointment, will they 
not?” 

“ Of course, they alone!” 

“ Well, each of them has a candidate of his own. The em- 
peror is in favor of Count Tauentzien, and the king is for 
Field-Marshal Kalkreuth. Who, then, is to think of and 
speak for me?” 

“ Your glory will speak for you, general,” said Scharnhorst, 
feelingly ; “ the love which every soldier feels for you will 
speak, and you will speak for yourself by your noble appear- 
ance — your self-reliant bearing, your energy and strength, 

* Pertz’s “ Life of Stein,” vol. iii., p. 310. 
tBeitzke, vol. i., p. 170. 


280 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


which do not shrink from truth. Come, let us get ready for 
the ball, and, my friend, do not impose any restraint upon 
yourself there; give the reins to your discontent; tell every 
one frankly and bluntly that you are dissatisfied — that you 
ardently desire to be appointed general-in-chief, and that you 
would consider it a great misfortune if another man should be 
preferred to you.” 

“But, dear general,” exclaimed Madame von Blucher, in 
dismay, “how can you give Blucher such advice? You kuow 
how hot-headed and rash he is! He will rave about so, that 
the king and the emperor themselves will hear him.” 

“Well,” said Scharnhorst, smiling, “it is sometimes very 
well that there should be a man courageous enough to tell the 
kings and emperors the truth, and prove to them that 
mankind do not always fawn upon them with polite sub- 
missiveness.” 

“Scharnhorst is right,” exclaimed Blucher, suddenly 
straightening himself; “yes, I will go to the ball, and tell 
them there at least what sort of men those are whom they 
wish to appoint, and what we may expect from them. They 
shall not afterward excuse themselves by saying that they were 
not forewarned, and that no one had called their attention to 
Blucher. I will do it myself — yes, thunder and lightning! 
I will remind them of Blucher, and they shall hear and under- 
stand me.” 

“Well,” cried Madame von Blucher, “I beg permission to 
stay at home, for Blucher will have a scene, at which I do not 
wish to be present.” 

“Oh, no, there will be no scene whatever,” said Blucher. 

“ I shall make my obeisance to their majesties and then step 
aside, but of course I am not to keep altogether still, and — 
well, you know my motto, ‘At them!’* Well, then, ‘at 
them!’ Let us go to the ball. You must accompany me, 
Amelia, there is no help for it; for it may be necessary for 
you to bring me back to reason. You know well that no one 
but you can do that.” 

“ I am sure, madame, you will not abandon us at this criti- 
cal hour?” begged Scharnhorst. “You do not desire his 
guardian angel to leave him?” 

“Yes, I will go with you,” she said, smiling, “if for no 
other purpose than to restrain my fiery thunderer in proper 
time.” 


*“ Immer drauf ! 


THE GENERAL-IN-CHIEF OF THE SILESIAN ARMY. 281 

“Well, it may not be of any avail,” said Blucher, dryly. 
“ By Heaven! I must unbosom myself a little to-day — I must 
tell them the truth, which no one here at Breslau likes to 
hear. — Well, Amelia, do me the favor to turn toward the 
window. I wish to take off my dressing-gown and put on my 
uniform coat — then I am dressed ; only my coat is wanting ; 
it lies on the chair yonder; wait until I have put it on, and 
then we shall ride to the ball. I will call John to assist me.” 

“Do not call any one,” said Scharnhorst, “but permit me 
to assist you. Here is the coat.” 

“And here I am,” cried Blucher, throwing off the dressing- 
gown and quickly plunging into the coat which Scharnhorst 
handed him. 

“But now listen, general,” said Scharnhorst, handing 
Blucher the sword and belt. “ As you are so very amiable 
and kind, I will tell you good news. Gneisenau will be here 
to-morrow.” 

“What? Is he no longer in England?” asked Blucher, 
joyously. 

“ No, he is in Germany, and, as he wrote to me, will arrive 
to-morrow at the latest. He landed nearly a week ago from a 
Swedish ship at Colberg, where he was received with enthusi- 
asm. The whole city was illuminated on the evening of his 
arrival, and the citizens marched in procession to his lodg- 
ings.* You see the old hatred and the old love are still alive 
in the people ; they have not forgotten their oppressors, nor 
their heroes either.” 

“Then Gneisenau has come, too,” exclaimed Blucher; “he 
is the petrel that heralds the storm. There will be war now, 
certainly; and if I am not permitted to share in it, my heart 
will burst like an overcharged gun. Gneisenau come! all 
men are coming, and Blucher is to stay at home! AV ell, if 
they do not appoint me commanding general, I will enlist as 
a private. For I must participate in the war that is to put 
an end to Bonaparte’s tyranny ; and, if I cannot be first dancer, 
I shall be one of the musicians. — Christian, have the carriage 
brought to the door!” 

* Beitzke, vol. i., p. 196. 


10 


282 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BRESLAU. 

The large saloon of the city hall of Breslau presented an 
exceedingly festive and brilliant spectacle. The walls were 
tastefully decorated with festoons and flags, exhibiting alter- 
nately the Russian and Prussian colors; between them were 
the Prussian eagle and the double-headed Russian eagle in 
richly-gilt medallions, surrounded by resplendent tapers. On 
the ceiling were suspended three enormous chandeliers, each 
adorned with fifty large wax candles, which shed a flood of 
light through the whole hall, and reflected themselves a hun- 
dred times in their balls and pendants of rock crystal. In 
the gallery, fixed on the upper half of one of the walls of the 
hall, and splendidly decorated with garlands and Prussian and 
Russian flags, sat a band of fifty musicians, who caused soul- 
stirring greetings to roll down into the hall, where the brill- 
iant and numerous crowd of guests, whom the municipal 
authorities had invited, were moving up and down; the ladies 
in the most magnificent toilets, in the gorgeous splendor of 
diamonds and other precious stones, of flowers and laces; the 
gentlemen in their gold-embroidered uniforms, their breasts 
ornamented with orders; but among them were seen also the 
dark figures of Liitzow’s riflemen, the plain coats of the citi- 
zens, and even some of the peasantry in their becoming rural 
costumes. All classes were represented at this great ball, 
which the municipal authorities of Breslau gave in honor of 
the Emperor of Russia, for these representatives of all classes 
were to offer to Alexander the homage of the Prussian people, 
and to return thanks to the noble ally of the king for the 
assistance that he intended to lend to Prussia. 

The emperor and the king, therefore, were received with 
boundless enthusiasm when they entered the hall arm in arm, 
each decorated not with his own orders, but with those of his 
ally, Alexander had acknowledged this flattering reception 
with the affability and the smiling grace peculiar to him ; 
Frederick William, with the gravity and calmness that never 
left him. After the first presentations and official addresses 
were over, Alexander requested the presiding burgomaster to 
set aside the embarrassing ceremonial, and to allow every one 


THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BRESLAU. 283 


to yield without restraint to the enjoyment of the festival. 
In order to give an example to the assembled guests, the em- 
peror suggested to the managers that dancing might begin, 
and, offering his arm to the wife of the presiding burgomaster, 
he opened the ball with the Polonaise. After the dance he 
moved about the hall with the most amiable affability, always 
endeavoring by his kindness and politeness to cause all to for- 
get the gulf separating them from the emperor. The king 
had, like him, participated in the opening of the ball; hut 
he retired, grave, silent, and cold as ever, into the adjoining 
apartment which was destined for the private audience-room of 
the two sovereigns, and which none were permitted to enter hut 
those whom the footmen of the king and the emperor expressly 
invited. As long as Alexander and Frederick William were 
in the large hall, they only desired to be the guests of their 
kind hosts, and affable and unassuming members of the party; 
no sooner, however, had they crossed the threshold of their 
audience-room than they were again the king and the em- 
peror, whom no one was allowed to approach without being 
requested. From this audience-room a door, veiled by heavy 
velvet curtains, led into another apartment, where a small 
table, covered with the choicest cold viands, and the most ex- 
quisite and rare wines, had been set for the two sovereigns, 
and this small apartment led to the large supper-room that 
was again connected by a small room with the vast saloon. 
One of the long walls of this supper-room was occupied with 
an enormous buffet, loaded with the most select delicacies in 
colossal dishes of silver and porcelain, and beside which were 
large crystal bowls, filled with smoking punch or fragrant 
cardinal. In the remaining space was a number of small round 
tables ready for supper, at which those might take seats who 
desired to refresh themselves after the exhausting pleasures of 
the festival. 

Alexander and Frederick William had retired into the 
audience-room, and sent for those persons whom they desired 
to distinguish particularly to-night. There were Majors von 
Liitzow and Petersdorf, who had been invited to the honor of 
an audience which had been conferred even upon some of the 
volunteers, among them upon Baron la Motte Fouque and 
Theodore Korner; and Alexander told them with charming 
enthusiasm of his sympathy for the heroic Prussian nation, 
and of his admiration of its glorious self-denial. He stated 
to Major von Liitzow that, if he did not happen to be em- 


284 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


peror, he would not allow any one to prevent him from volun- 
teering in his Legion of Vengeance; and to Theodore Korner, 
in proof of the admiration he felt for his poems, he recited 
the first verses of his patriotic song, “ Frisch auf , mein Volk , 
die Flammenzeichen rauchen.” 

Frederick William contented himself with addressing a 
kind word, a brief salutation, to each of them, and then again 
moving toward the portiere, looked at the motley crowd in the 
ball-room. Suddenly, while the two sovereigns were standing 
side by side, engaged in a familiar chat, and looking into the 
hall, an unusual commotion was noticed. All rushed toward 
the entrance of the hall, through which the two burgomasters 
had just stepped into the outer reception-room. Undoubtedly 
some one was expected, and moreover one whom all the guests 
were anxious to see and to welcome in the most enthusiastic 
manner. 

The large folding-doors opened, and between the two burgo- 
masters appeared the slender, firmly-knit form of General 
Blucher. Behind him was General Scharnhorst, escorting 
Madame von Blucher. Blucher advanced, with a winning 
smile on his fine, good-natured countenance, greeting the 
assembled guests by pleasantly nodding to the right and left. 
At first his polite salutations were returned in silence, but 
gradually there arose murmurs and whispers — the eyes which 
were fixed upon the hero’s form grew more radiant, and soon 
cheers resounded through the whole hall — deafening shouts 
of “ Long live Blucher ! — Long live our hero, brave General 
Blucher!” 

“A flourish!” shouted other voices to the musicians. The 
presiding burgomaster nodded smilingly, and waved his white 
handkerchief. The musicians made a loud flourish resound, 
and more deafening and jubilant became the shouts of “ Long 
live Blucher! — Long live our hero!” Blucher bowed, confused 
and almost ashamed, and with so charming an expression of 
surprise and joy that this called forth a new outburst of 
tumultuous applause and enthusiasm. 

The two sovereigns stood in the open door of the audience- 
room, and witnessed this strange and unexpected scene, Alex- 
ander smiling and apparently well pleased, Frederick William 
grave and with a slight shadow on his brow. 

“Ah, sir,” said Alexander, in a low and quick voice, “it 
seems to me the guests intend to make a little demonstration 
in honor of your general, and to give us a gentle hint whom 


THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BBESLAU. 285 


they would like to have appointed general-in-chief of the 
Silesian army.” 

u Indeed, it seems so, said Frederick Milliam, morosely, 
“but I do not like such demonstrations, and they have no 
effect upon myself.” 

. But us now greet the hero,” exclaimed Alexander, 
smiling; “ people ought to see that we share the general sym- 
pathy.” He quickly stepped into the ballroom; the king 
followed him slowly and hesitatingly. 

“ Welcome, my dear General Blucher,” said Alexander, offer- 
ing his hand to the general, while the king saluted him merely 
with a nod. The hum and noise which hitherto filled the 
hall like the roar of the sea, immediately died away. Silence 
ensued; everyone stood still as if riveted to his place; all 
eyes were turned in eager suspense and with breathless curios- 
ity toward the group that stood in the middle of the hall; all 
tried to catch a word, a glance, in order to draw therefrom 
their own conclusions. And, amid this general silence, was 
heard the melodious voice of Alexander, who said again, 
“Welcome, my dear General Blucher! I am really glad to 
greet you, and to meet you again after so long an interval. 
I did not know, indeed, that you were here in Breslau ; other- 
wise I would have called upon you.” 

“ That would have been very gracious, and in accordance 
with the character of your majesty,” said Blucher, loudly and 
firmly. “For your majesty is known never to forget those 
who are worthy of being remembered. All patriots have 
learned, with feelings of gratitude and enthusiasm, that your 
majesty, directly after your arrival, called upon that noble 
and intrepid German, Minister von Stein, who was living 
solitary, sick, and deserted, in his garret, and who, up to 
that time, only a few faithful friends and a few cowardly 
enemies had remembered.” * 

These words, uttered in a loud and powerful voice, pro- 
duced various effects. The Emperor Alexander smiled and 
bowed his head quickly and repeatedly; King Frederick Will- 

* Minister von Stein had arrived sick at Breslau, and lived, as stated above, in a 
small garret, which Major von Liitzow had surrendered to him. Only his intimate 
friends visited him there, and this was the reason why Count St. Marsan, whom Field- 
Marshal Kalkreuth had informed of Stein’s arrival at Breslau, did not believe in the 
truth of this information. Baron von Stein, however, received secretly many proofs 
of love and sympathy. The king alone took no notice of him, and the members of 
the court, too, were prohibited from entering into any relations with Stein. There 
was a change for the better, however, as soon as the Emperor of Russia arrived, and 
at once called upon Stein. Now all hastened to visit him, and overwhelmed him with 
protestations of devotion, which he rejected frequently with great asperity. 


286 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


iam frowned slightly, and this authorized the gentlemen of 
his suite, who stood behind him, Field-Marshal Kalkreuth 
and General Knesebeck, to frown too, and cast angry glances 
at Blucher. Madame von Blucher, who had modestly kept 
somewhat in the background, turned very pale, and leaned 
tremblingly upon the arm of General Scharnhorst, who smiled 
and whispered, “Blucher is grand! He is a true fire-king 
among the will-o’-the-wisps!” The two burgomasters and the 
host of courtiers smiled when they glanced at the emperor, 
and looked grave and gloomy when they turned their eyes to 
the clouded brow of the king. Blucher, however, did not 
seem to notice the impression produced by his words, and 
looked around as composedly as if he had made a mere 
courtier’s reply to the emperor’s gracious salutation. 

“ I am happy to be one of Stein’s friends,” said Alexander, 
“ but I do not think it requires particular courage to profess 
friendship for a magnanimous man whom all Germany reveres 
and admires.” 

“No, your majesty,” said Blucher, calmly, “only a short 
time ago it required a great deal of courage for a German to 
profess friendship for Minister von Stein, for the Emperor 
Napoleon hates and fears him, and for this reason three- 
fourths of the Germans hate and fear him from humble 
respect for the Emperor of the French. — Is it not so?” added 
Blucher, suddenly turning to Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, who 
stood close behind the king, “ is it not as I say? Do you not 
admit that I am right, Field-Marshal Kalkreuth?” 

This question, which was addressed to a by-stander, with 
utter disregard of etiquette, caused the blood of the courtiers 
to freeze, and made Field-Marshal Kalkreuth turn purple with 
anger. The Emperor Alexander, however, burst into loud 
laughter, and, turning to the king, he whispered to him in 
a hurried, low voice, “ You are right, sire, Blucher is a mad- 
cap, a genuine hussar, always ready to charge!” The king 
nodded, and as Alexander laughed, he forced himself also to 
smile a little. Field-Marshal Kalkreuth responded to Blu- 
cher’s question only by a quick, angry glance and a gentle 
bow. “Well,” said Alexander, turning again to Blucher, “I 
am satisfied, however, that you did not belong to the three- 
fourths of the Germans that hated and loved according to the 
wishes of the Emperor Napoleon, general?” 

“No, your majesty,” exclaimed Blucher, “I have always 
belonged to his most consistent and implacable enemies, 


THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BRESLAU. 287 


though I really owe him a great deal — nay, almost my 
life.” 

“How your life?” asked Alexander, in amazement. “Did 
the emperor ever save you from peril?” 

“ Yes, your majesty,” said Blucher, casting a quick and 
fiery glance around the large circle of his audience, “ the Em- 
peror Napoleon did save me from a danger menacing my life. 
For, ever since the disastrous days of Tilsit, I was near dying 
of grief at the misfortunes of Prussia; and when our noble 
and august Queen Louisa died — our queen, who was so true 
and patriotic a German lady, and whose heart had been broken 
by the calamities that had befallen Prussia — I really thought 
a dagger had pierced my heart, and I would have to bleed to 
death. But then I comforted myself by remembering that 
Napoleon still lived, and that I ought to live, too, in order to 
see the day when the tyrant would be brought to judgment, 
and I felt strengthened by the conviction that God had des- 
tined me to be the instrument by whom He wanted to destroy 
Napoleon, and that I was intended to assist in delivering Ger- 
many and avenging Queen Louisa; and this thought, sire, 
kept me alive, invigorating and strengthening me ; it rendered 
me again so young and ardent that I am yearning for the 
fray like a war-horse that has heard the bugle-call.” 

A murmur of applause was heard, and only the feeling of 
awe inspired by the presence of the two sovereigns seemed to 
restrain a tumultuous outburst of general sympathy. Every 
one looked with proud and joyful glances now at the aged 
general, whose noble face was full of courage and determina- 
tion, and again at the Emperor Alexander, who seemed to 
contemplate the intrepid soldier with a sort of amazement. 

A brief pause ensued, when the king approached Madame 
von Blucher, standing by the side of Scharnhorst. “ Good- 
evening, madame,” said the king, in a loud and somewhat 
harsh voice; “please tell me how old General Blucher is.” 

“Your majesty,” said Madame von Blucher, making a pro- 
found obeisance, “according to his heart and strength, he is 
a youth ; according to his certificate of birth, he is seventy- 
one years old.” 

“So old!” said the king; “ Blucher so aged a man ! But, 
it is true, his tongue is that of a stripling.” 

“Your majesty,” said Blucher, quickly turning, “may it 
please the good God and my king to give me an opportunity 
to refute my certificate of birth, and to prove that I am a 


288 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


vigorous, courageous lad, who knows how to use his sword as 
well as his tongue!” 

“It is not sufficient, however, to know how to use the sword 
and the tongue, but one must know, too, how to restrain 
both,” said the king, quickly turning and beckoning Field- 
Marshal Kalkreuth to his side, with whom he commenced 
chatting. 

The Emperor Alexander laid his hand hastily on Blucher’s 
shoulder, as if to soften and restrain the impending outburst 
of the general’s anger, and, looking with a kind smile into his 
flushed face, he said: “ restraint is not what suits you? Your 
motto is, ‘Always forward!’ And you believe it is time that 
all Germany, myself, and my army, should adopt this motto? 
Well, perhaps you are right, my dear general. At all events, 
it will be seen soon who are right, those who wish to procras- 
tinate, or those who are in favor of immediate and decisive 
action.” 

He nodded pleasantly to Blucher, and then called General 
Scharnhorst to his side, turning, like the king, back to the 
audience-room. The guests who had crowded in breathless 
silence into the middle of the hall, dispersed again and 
returned to the adjoining rooms. Blucher escorted his wife 
to the gallery occupied by ladies, and then followed the 
burgomasters, who had solicited the honor of conducting him 
to the supper-room. 

Frederick William’s brow was gloomy and clouded, and he 
was even graver and more reticent than usual. He retired 
into the background of the room, addressing only now and 
then a few quick words to Field-Marshal Kalkreuth, who stood 
by his side. Alexander’s countenance was serene and pleas- 
ant, and a smile played round his lips while he conversed 
eagerly with General Scharnhorst. 

“ You say, then, that Stein is of the same opinion?” asked 
Alexander, thoughtfully. “ He thinks, too, that General 
Blucher should be preferred?” 

“Yes, sire,” said Scharnhorst, “ this is the opinion of 
Minister von Stein, and, I may add, the opinion of every 
Prussian who has the happiness and greatness of the father- 
land at heart. Sire, those who are in favor of a timid and 
vacillating policy, who would like to negotiate and compro- 
mise, who still believe in the possibility of a reconciliation 
with France, who still think that the pen should smoothen 
the rugged path before us, or unravel the knot of our difficul- 


THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BRESLAU. 289 


ties — those cowardly, grovelling hearts are the real enemies of 
our cause, and more dangerous than Napoleon with all his 
armies. For they are weighing down our courage, paralyzing 
our arms, and stifling our enthusiasm. But for them the 
king, who, in his modesty, is utterly unaware how fiery a 
soul, how great a heart he is possessed of, would have long 
since concluded an alliance with your majesty. But the king 
is unfortunately so modest that he distrusts himself, and sub- 
ordinates his own opinion to that of his old and, as he believes, 
well-tried and faithful advisers. Now, these advisers are to 
blame for all the misfortunes of Prussia; they inveigled us 
into the alliance with France; they caused us to adhere to it, 
and would even now like to force us back into it. They would 
stifle the fire of patriotism because they are afraid lest it 
annihilate them and destroy their unworthy efforts. For this 
reason Blucher, with his heroic soul, is as much an eyesore to 
them as Stein, with his plans of liberation and his energetic 
action for constitutional reform. One wishes to create a new 
Prussia, the other a new state, and both these ideas are utterly 
distasteful to some, for they cling to the rotten old system, 
and new things fill them with terror.” 

Alexander listened to the words of Scharnhorst with the 
liveliest attention, and looked down musingly. 

“Listen, general!” he said, in a low and hurried voice, 
glancing around the room as if to convince himself that no 
one could overhear his words, “ reply honestly and sincerely to 
the following question: Is the King of Prussia sufficiently 
strong to cope with France for any length of time?” 

“No,” said . Scharnhorst, firmly. “The army the king 
could place in the field would not be able to achieve a single 
victory over Napoleon. But the Prussian nation is strong, 
and arming itself for a struggle in which it will triumph, be- 
cause no army can resist the will of a united people, and be- 
cause God is an ally of the nations fighting for their liberty 
and their princes; but he who is audacious enough to en- 
deavor to stifle the flame of this national enthusiasm, in- 
stead of bearing it aloft like an oriflamme in the van of the 
great army of liberation, would render himself guilty of a 
fearful sin. Prussia will conquer with her whole people, but 
she will succumb if she relies only on her army.” 

“ It is true,” said Alexander, thoughtfully, “the Prussian 
nation has manifested of late a wonderful enthusiasm, and has 
risen as one man. It has risen for its king and its honor, 


290 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and — do you not believe that it will fight equally well for 
both, whether Tauentzien, Kalkreuth, or Blucher, be its 
chieftain?” 

“ No, sire,” said Scharnhorst, quickly; “ I know that it will 
not. The people, with their quick and unerring instinct, know 
those very well in whom they may confide, and I request your 
majesty to take graciously into consideration that it is this 
time the people that must render Prussia victorious. It is 
true, the regiments of volunteers that have already been organ- 
ized would not disband, even though Kalkreuth or Tauent- 
zien should be appointed general-in-chief of the Prussian or 
Silesian army, but the regiments that have not yet been 
organized and equipped will hesitate and retire, unless they 
know that a general will command them who has sworn un- 
ending hatred to the Emperor Napoleon, and who will die a 
thousand times on the battle-field rather than conclude peace 
and a new alliance with him. Now, such a general is Blucher, 
the youth of seventy, a modern knight ‘without fear and with- 
out reproach.’ If he stands at the head of our army, the 
Prussian people will rally exultingly round the standards, and 
the diminished regiments be replaced by new ones that will 
rush into the field, because they know that there is at their 
head a hero in whose breast there is room for only two senti- 
ments — love of country and hatred of the French ; and who 
serves, without fear, his God, his king, and his fatherland, 
impelled by this very hatred and love, without any secondary 
motives — nay, perhaps, even without personal ambition.” 

“ If Blucher is really such a hero as you depict him,” cried 
Alexander, “ it would be a crime not to place him at the head 
of the Silesian army. Had you told the king all you have told 
me, he would certainly not have hesitated a moment as to the 
general who should be appointed commander-in-chief.” 

“ Sire, I did tell him all that my heart and my head 
prompted me, and to-day at noon I was still convinced that 
the king would appoint General Blucher as soon as he should 
have satisfied himself that he thereby would not act contrary 
to the will and wishes of your majesty. But the little scene 
at the hall a few minutes ago has unfortunately shaken my 
conviction, for the king seemed offended at the rough and 
somewhat impetuous bearing of the hussar general.” 

“ And this very bearing of the hussar general, as you call 
Blucher, has impressed me very favorably, for he who relies 
so firmly on his own strength must feel sure of victory. I 


THE BALL AT THE CITY HALL OF BRESLAU. 291 


like to see, towering above the crowd of the fawning courtiers 
surrounding us, men who do not bend their backs, nor sink 
into the dust, before our so-called ‘divine rights,’ but who 
stand erect, and fear no one, because they are true to them- 
selves.” 

“ If that is the opinion of your majesty, then I am at liberty 
to confess that I share it,” said a voice behind him; and when 
the emperor turned, he met the smiling gaze of the king, who 
had approached during the conversation with Scharnhorst, 
and, as he did not wish to interrupt it, listened to its con- 
clusion without being noticed by the two speakers. 

“What!” asked Alexander, offering his hand to the king. 
“Your majesty, then, is of my opinion — you like, too, the 
men who sometimes allow us to see their brow instead of their 
reverentially-bent back, and who tell us the truth instead of 
those eternal, perfumed flatteries?” 

“Certainly, sire,” said the king, gently bowing his head. 
“ It is true, the truth is sometimes a somewhat bitter medi- 
cine, but it restores our health, while sweet flatteries spoil our 
taste and ruin our stomach.” 

“ And we must really have a healthy stomach to digest the 
hard fare of these times!” exclaimed Alexander, smiling. 
“ Scharnhorst thinks that Blucher would be a good physician 
for our stomachs. That is your opinion, general, is it not?” 

“J3ire, he is at least a physician who will not resort to palli- 
atives,” said Scharnhorst, “but will immediately try to eradi- 
cate the evil by a thorough operation.” 

“ But I have been told that a great many patients have died 
in consequence of operations, when they might have lived a 
long time if they had borne their ills with patience and 
resignation,” said the king, growing again gloomy and 
thoughtful. 

The emperor laid his hand on the shoulder of his royal 
friend. “ But who would prefer a life on the sick-bed to the 
quick and glorious death of a hero on the field of honor?” he 
said, feelingly. “Not you, my august friend, I know; and 
even better than to me it is known to the angel who is hover- 
ing over you, and whose earthly eyes were closed in grief. 
But,” Alexander interrupted himself, “ these are thoughts that 
are unsuitable for a festival, and I beg your majesty’s pardon 
for having ventured to indulge in them.” 

“ Still, they are the thoughts that always accompany and 
never leave me, sire,” said the king. “ True, I have overcome 


292 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


my grief, but I will never learn to forget. At the present 
time I am thinking of my Louisa with redoubled longing. 
How her heart would have rejoiced over the renewal of an 
alliance which she so fervently desired, and how the noble 
spirit of the nation would have delighted and inspired her!” 

“ The noble queen, I believe, was also a warm friend of 
General Blucher, was she not?” asked the emperor, after a 
pause. “ I believe she belonged to those who expected a great 
deal from him, and thought him a hero and a powerful enemy 
of Napoleon? Is it not so, sire?” 

“ Yes,” said the king, thoughtfully, “the queen had a great 
regard for Blucher, and considered him a brave and faithful 
patriot.” 

“And what did she think of Field-Marshal Kalkreuth?” 
asked Alexander, with seeming carelessness. “ Did he belong 
to those, too, in whom the queen confided, and from whom 
she expected the salvation of the fatherland?” 

The king quickly looked up and met for a moment the 
searching gaze which the emperor fixed on him. Frederick 
William smiled, and inclined his head, as if he well under- 
stood the emperor’s question. “ No,” he said, “ Queen Louisa 
rarely approved of the views of the field-marshal, and although 
she felt high esteem for the general who had already shown 
himself a brave man under the great Frederick, she did not 
agree with the predilection he manifested for the Emperor 
Napoleon and his invincible armies.” 

“ A predilection,” exclaimed Alexander, smiling, “which I 
believe the field-marshal has not yet got rid of, notwithstand- 
ing the experience which Napoleon gained on the battle-fields 
of Russia.” 

“ On the same battle-fields on which your majesty gathered 
new laurels,” said the king, bowing slightly. 

“ And now there will spring up real laurel-woods for your 
majesty here in Germany!” exclaimed the emperor. “The 
only question for us now is, to find the right sort of gardener 
who knows how to cultivate them. But, I repeat, our thoughts 
are not suitable to this festival. Come, sire, permit me to 
offer you my arm as your cavalier, and to conduct you to the 
buffet, for how exalted soever our position may be, we must 
not forget that we are men, and that our stomachs sometimes 
need food.” 

He offered his arm to the king, and conducted him to the 
small supper-hall adjoining the audience-room. The gentle- 


THE APPOINTMENT. 


293 


men who were present followed them, and the chamberlains 
hurried to the sideboard to have supper served up to the two 
sovereigns. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE APPOINTMENT. 

Alexander took a seat by the king’s side at the small 
table, loaded with a heavy gold service, set for them alone 
near the door, which was covered with a heavy portiere , and 
led into the large supper- hall. The emperor and the king 
had just put upon their plates some of the appetizing pdU de 
foie gras which the master of ceremonies himself had served 
up, and were proceeding like other mortals to consume them 
with great relish. The cavaliers, improving the opportune 
moment of silence, stood about the room and partook of the 
viands taken from the sideboard. Suddenly this silence was 
interrupted by a voice which was not uttered in the room 
itself, but swept through it like the blast of a trumpet: “ If 
this hesitation and vacillation continue, all is lost; and it 
would then be better for us to throw ourselves immediately at 
the feet of Bonaparte, and crave quarter, than unnecessarily 
spill the precious blood of the people, and at last submit. He 
who does not advance goes backward without noticing it, and 
he who is not courageous enough to attack, is vanquished even 
before his adversary has forced him to battle.” 

“ Why,” exclaimed Alexander, smiling, “ these are sentences 
that remind me of General Blucher.” 

“ Your majesty is right, it is his voice,” said the king; “ he 
will give vent to his indignation, and, perhaps, at our expense. 
Let us not listen to him.” 

“ On the contrary, I beg your majesty’s kind permission to 
listen,” said Alexander, pleasantly. “There is in the words 
of the general something that is as refreshing as a pure wind 
dispelling unhealthy vapors. Ah, hear him, sire; his tones 
are roaring like a hurricane.” 

In fact, the voice in the adjoining room had grown more 
violent, and the Emperor Alexander was seated in such a man- 
ner that he could distinctly hear every word uttered : 

“ What ! you really believe it to be possible that they will 
appoint Field-Marshal Kalkreuth general-in-chief, and intrust 


294 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


our young and splendid army to him? Great Heaven! do 
they not know, then, that Kalkreuth, however excellent a 
man and brave a soldier he may be, is not fit to confront Na- 
poleon? Is it not a matter of notoriety that the field-marshal 
loves and admires Bonaparte, and that he considers a rupture 
with France a great calamity for Prussia? How could he 
ever win a battle who could never look straight forward at the 
battle-field, but would squint sideways to see what faces Napo- 
leon would make, and whether he would not frown at the 
audacity of the Prussians, who dare try to defeat the great 
Napoleon? We need a man with a direct look — one who fixes 
both his eyes on the object. We do not want any schielwippen ! 
They may all go to the mischief, for one never knows what 
they are about! I repeat, we need a man with a straight 
look!” 

“ What is that? schielwippen ? ” inquired the emperor, smil- 
ing. “ I thought I had learned the German language pretty 
thoroughly from my mother and my wife, both of whom have 
the honor of being natives of Germany, but I have never heard 
this word from them. Pray, sire, tell me what it means.” 

“I must confess that I do not understand it either,” said 
the king, shrugging his shoulders. 

“General Scharnhorst!” cried the emperor. “Pray can 
you tell us what schielwippen means?” 

“Sire,” said Scharnhorst, laughing, “ it is a slang term for 
a man who squints. General Blucher likes to use the lan- 
guage of the people.” 

“ Well, the Prussian people have recently used such grand 
and magnificent language,” said Alexander, “ that we may say 
with heart-felt conviction, 4 Vox populi vox Dei! ’ and that it 
reflects great credit on Blucher, if it is true that he speaks like 
the people. But, hush! what does he say now?” 

“The cowards have brought all our misfortunes upon us!” 
thundered Blucher’s powerful voice. “ The hesitating men 
who always wish to patch up and stop the holes, instead of 
tearing down the old ruin and building a new house, are our 
curse, and have always involved Prussia in untold calamities. 
When I think of them I would like to have them here, to treat 
them as Jahn treated the other day one of the Turners at 
Berlin. Ho you know the story?” 

“No,” shouted several voices, “we unfortunately do not.” 

“ Well, I will tell it to you. Jahn went with his pupils 
down the Linden to the Brandenburg gate to perform the 


THE APPOINTMENT. 


295 


usual gymnastic exercises on the drill-grounds outside the 
city. On the way he happened to cast his eyes on the gate, 
where the Victoria formerly stood, and which the French stole 
and carried off to Paris. Jahn, like every honest man who 
looks at the gate, felt his heart swell with anger. He turned 
to the boy who was marching by his side and asked him, 
‘What stood formerly over the pillars of the gate?’ — ‘The 
Victoria,’ said the boy. — ‘Where is it now?’ inquired Jahn. 
— ‘It is in Paris, where the French carried it.’ Jahn asked 
again, ‘What do you think when looking up to the vacant 
place on the top of the gate?’ — ‘Well,’ said the boy, with 
great composure, ‘what should I think? I think it is a pity 
that the Victoria is no longer there.’ And when he said so, 
Jahn lifted up his hand and slapped the boy’s face. ‘You 
should think that we will fetch back the Victoria, you 
monkey !’ he shouted. That is the whole story, but I remem- 
ber it whenever I see these dear tame men who merely say, ‘It 
is a pity that we have been so unfortunate!’ and whose hearts 
feel only a mild regret instead of the most ardent revenge. 
And then my hand itches, and I would like to lift it up, like 
Jahn, and slap their faces.” 

“Your Blucher is a splendid hussar,” said Alexander, look- 
ing at the king. “ I believe it is dangerous to stand before 
him when his hand is itching.” 

“Yes, his hand has been itching from the days of Jena,” 
exclaimed the king, smiling. “ He has been anxious to fight 
ever since. For this reason I gave him the estate of Kunzen- 
dorf, and sent him thither. I thought he would there quietly 
cure himself; but it seems it was in vain; my expectations 
have been disappointed. I believe his hand is incurable.” 

“ Your majesty, therefore, had better yield to him, and allow 
him to fight,” said Alexander, almost entreatingly. “The 
opportunity is excellent at the present time. If you place 
him at the head of the Silesian army, he will no longer slap 
the faces of his friends and neighbors on the right and left, 
but will rush forward and stretch out his itching hand to deal 
the French terrible blows.” 

“ I am only afraid he would be too rash in his wild hussar 
spirit,” said the king, “and spoil every thing by trying to 
tear down all barriers.” 

“ A man should be placed by his side who knows how to 
check his boldness,” exclaimed Alexander — “a man who does 
not stifle Blucher’s ardor, but gives it the true direction. 


296 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ But where shall we find such a one?” 

“ I believe your majesty may find him close by,” said Alex- 
ander, pointing to Scharnhorst, who was leaning against the 
portiere. 

“Ah, sire,” cried the king, almost merrily, “I believe you 
are a magician, and understand my most secret thoughts. 
Scharnhorst has a great mind, and I owe him much. If he 
would take upon himself that difficult and ungrateful part by 
the side of Blucher, I believe the general’s impetuosity would 
be less dangerous.” 

“ Your majesty, please ask him whether he will or not,” said 
Alexander. 

The king called Scharnhorst to his side. “ You have influ- 
ence over General Blucher, have you not?” he asked, hastily. 

“ I may say, at least, your majesty, that General Blucher is 
convinced of my love and devotion, and that he confides a lit- 
tle in me.” 

“Could you make up your mind to occupy a secondary 
position by his side, and, if I should appoint Blucher general- 
in-chief of the Silesian army, become his chief of staff?” 

“Your majesty,” exclaimed Scharnhorst, “I would deem it 
a great honor to serve under the heroic old man, and I am 
certain that with him I would enter upon a glorious career, 
particularly if your majesty should grant me a request.” 

“ What is it? Speak !” 

“ If your majesty should condescend to place General Gnei- 
senau, who will arrive to-morrow, as quartermaster-general.” 

The king nodded. “ You have selected a noble companion,” 
he said, smiling. 

“It will be a splendid trefoil, it seems to me,” cried the 
emperor. “ Blucher, Scharnhorst, and Gneisenau ! They 
are three well-sounding names! But listen, sire, Blucher is 
still thundering. There is a way to calm this tempest.” 

“ What is it?” asked the king, smiling. 

“ Your majesty ought to be so gracious as to send for Gen- 
eral Blucher, and tell him that you wish to confer upon him 
the command-in-chief of the Silesian army.” 

“ You advise me to do so, sire?” inquired the king. “ Your 
majesty, in counselling this, gives up no wish?” 

“ Yes, I do,” said Alexander, smiling. “I should wish to 
see General Tauentzien appointed commander-in-chief, just as 
your majesty probably would prefer to bestow this position on 
Field-Marshal Kalkreuth. Let us both, therefore, sacrifice 


THE APPOINTMENT. 


297 


our wishes to the great object for which I now believe Blucher 
to be the proper instrument.” 

“So let it be, your majesty,” exclaimed the king. “I will 
send for Blucher.” He beckoned to Scharnhorst to approach 
again. “Pray go and fetch your friend, General Blucher,” 
said the king, rising, like the emperor, from the table. 

“ And I beg leave, while the general goes into the hall, to 
cast a glance into the next room, to see what Blucher is 
doing,” said the emperor. “Now draw the portiere back, 
General Scharnhorst, and stand there. In this way I am able 
to survey the whole hall.” 

Scharnhorst, in accordance with the emperor’s order, 
opened the portiere and stood in it; by his side, shaded by the 
curtain, stood the emperor and the king. Both gazed into 
the supper-hall, which presented, a highly animated spec- 
tacle. At all the small tables sat the guests in attractive 
groups, the ladies in their rich toilets, the gentlemen in their 
brilliant uniforms. All were merry and loquacious ; the choice 
delicacies had put every one in good spirits; the fiery wine 
had loosened all tongues. Even the eyes of the ladies were 
sparkling with a higher lustre, and a deeper crimson burned 
on their cheeks. But all those merry faces turned frequently 
toward the small table on one side of the hall near the portiere. 
There sat General Blucher with his wife; several gentlemen 
were seated near him. On the table stood one of the crystal 
bowls that had previously adorned the handsome sideboard, 
and from this bowl, filled with an amber-colored liquid, arose 
a delightful perfume. Blucher seemed to inhale the fragrance 
with pleasure, for an expression of infinite comfort beamed from 
his features, and whenever he emptied his glass he seized the 
silver ladle that lay in the bowl, and then drew his white 
mustache with a smile of gratification through his fingers, 
while his eyes surveyed the whole company with a flashing 
glance. Then a shadow passed across his brow. “We are 
highly elated to-day, because we are at length to take up arms 
against our foe,” he said ; “ we are overjoyed because we are to 
take our revenge. And suppose every thing should again turn 
out wrong; suppose the cowards and the schielivippen should, 
after all, remain at the helm ? Great Heaven ! the very idea 
maddens me ! For I know them ! I know that they will ruin 
every thing. At the decisive moment they are vacillating, 
and, in order to dishearten others, too, they exaggerate the 
strength of the enemy a hundred-fold, and belittle our own 
20 


298 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


resources in the same proportion. Would that Heaven were 
to decree, ‘Blucher shall command the Prussians!’ Good 
Lord, 1 pledge Thee my head that I would expel Bonaparte 
with all his French from Germany, though I had but thirty 
thousand soldiers behind me!” * 

“ Now call him in, general,” whispered Alexander. Scharn- 
horst stepped into the hall. The king and the emperor left 
the supper-hall and returned into the audience-room. 

A few minutes afterward Blucher entered, followed by 
Scharnhorst, who remained at the door, while Blucher ad- 
vanced boldly toward the two sovereigns. 

“ Your majesty was so gracious as to send for me,” he said, 
bowing to the king. 

“ Yes,” said the king, gravely. “ I wish to ask you whether 
you belong to the vacillating cowards, or whether you are a 
whole man?” 

“And I,” exclaimed Alexander, pathetically — “I wish to 
request you to confess whether you are also a schielwippe f” 

Blucher looked at the two sovereigns with a gloomy, inquir- 
ing glance. But suddenly his face brightened, and a smile 
played round his lips. “Ah,” he cried, “I understand! 
Your majesties have overheard my prattle, and have sent for 
me to order me to be silent. But I cannot, your majesties; 
I cannot! I must give vent to my wrath, my vexation, and 
grief! I must be allowed to scold, for if I did not I would be 
obliged to weep, and it would be a disgrace for Blucher to act 
like an old woman! Let me scold, then, your majesties; it 
relieves my heart a little, and my anger teaches me to forget 
my grief.” 

“ You grieve, then, general?” inquired Frederick William, 
smiling. 

“ Yes, my lord and king, I do grieve intensely. I should 
like to lay my complaint before your majesty, and I will do 
so, too. I — ” 

“ Hush !” interposed the king, — “ hush, my firebrand of 
seventy-one years! First reply to this question: would you 
like to be appointed general-in-chief of the Silesian army?” 

“ Would I like to be appointed general-in-chief?” cried 
Blucher, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Your majesty, that 
is just as though you ask me whether I like to live any longer. 
For I tell your majesty I will die at once rather than let any 
one else have that position.” 

* Blucher’s words.— Vide Varnhagen, “ Life of Blucher,” p. 136. 


THE APPOINTMENT. 


299 


“ Well, then,” said the king, in a grave and dignified tone, 
“ I appoint you general-in-chief of the Silesian army. Do you 
accept the position?” 

Blucher uttered a cry, and his face brightened as if lit up 
by a sunbeam. “I accept it,” he exclaimed, “and here I 
swear to your majesty that I shall not lay down my command 
before Prussia is again what she was prior to the battle of 
Jena, and that I shall not sheathe my sword before we have 
driven Napoleon beyond the Rhine, and have made him so 
humble that he will never again dare to cross it. I swear to 
your majesty, upon my honor, that I will hurl Bonaparte from 
his throne — that I will not rest before the crown has fallen 
from his head! God has spared me that I may chastise 
Napoleon; He has told me every night in my dreams, ‘Do 
not despond, do not lose heart! Keep up thy courage and 
thy confidence, for I shall soon need thee! Thou shalt 
soon cut Napoleon down from his power, and throw him 
into the dust whence he sprang. ’ And I have answered, ‘I 
am on hand, and wait only for the struggle to begin.’ Now I 
say to your majesty what I then said, ‘I am on hand, and the 
struggle is to begin!’ I have sworn every day to chastise 
Bonaparte, and while I live I shall thank your majesty for 
giving me an opportunity. I am, then, general-in-chief of 
the Silesian army?” 

“ Yes, I appoint you, and his majesty the emperor approves 
my selection, ” said the king. “All necessary directions, in- 
structions, and orders, you will receive to-morrow in writing. 
You will immediately enter upon your office, and place your- 
self at the head of the troops. Do you wish to prefer requests 
and impose conditions?” 

“ Yes, your majesty, I must impose two conditions. In the 
first place, General Scharnhorst must be my chief of staff, for 
Blucher is only half a man when Scharnhorst is not with him. 
I have the arm, he has the head; therefore we must be 
together.” 

“Your request is granted, and Scharnhorst has already ac- 
cepted the position,” said the king, smiling. 

“ Secondly, I must impose the condition that I be allowed 
to leave Breslau to-morrow with my Prussians, and advance 
toward Saxony.” 

“What! You intend to start at once?” cried Alexander 
and Frederick William, in amazement. 

“ Yes, at once,” said Blucher, with a joyful air. “The 


300 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


years of waiting are past, and now comes the day of vengeance. 
Like a thunderstorm we must burst upon the French. Before 
they expect us we must expel what troops of theirs remain in 
Germany, dissolve the Confederation of the Rhine, and by our 
bold exploits stir up all Germany that she may rally round our 
flag, and form an enormous army before Napoleon has con- 
centrated his newly-organized forces. That is our task, and, 
if it pleases God, we will fulfil it.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

AFTER THE BATTLE OF BAUTZEN. 

For two days the battle had been raging, and even now, in 
the afternoon of the 22d of May, the struggle was undecided. 
Blucher, who, with his Prussians, occupied the heights of 
Kreckwitz, near Baiutzen, still hoped to achieve a victory. 
For two days the Prussians and Russians fought like lions 
along the extended line of battle ; they engaged the hostile 
legions with undaunted courage and joyful enthusiasm, re- 
gardless of the scorching heat, hunger, thirst, and exhaustion. 
During these days Blucher was constantly in the midst of his 
troops. Where the shower of bullets was thickest, where the 
danger was most imminent, his voice was heard inciting the 
soldiers; where the enemy approached with his most formid- 
able columns, Blucher stood with his faithful companion 
Gneisenau at the head of his Prussians, brandishing his sword, 
advancing with exulting cheers upon the enemy, and causing 
him to retreat. 

The heights of Kreckwitz had to be held till General Bar- 
clay de Tolly, with his Russians, would arrive, and Generals 
York and Kleist, with their Prussians, to cover Blucher’s left 
flank, which was threatened by Marshal Ney. The booming 
of cannon was incessant. The Russians stood like a wall, and 
when the front ranks were swept down, others took their 
places; the living stepped over the dying, undaunted, and 
remembering only one thing — that they had to take revenge 
for the lost battle of Lutzen.* 

“Boys,” shouted Blucher to his soldiers, just as the balls of 

* Fought May 2. 1813. The French call this battle that of Lutzen ; the Germans 
generally that of Gross-Gorschen. Both sides claimed a victory. But the latest Ger- 
man historians, especially Beitzke, admit that the Germans were defeated. 


AFTER THE BATTLE OF BAUTZEN. 


301 


the enemy struck down whole ranks, “ boys, remember that 
we have resolved to sabre the French. They have exhausted 
the soil of Germany, we must fertilize it with French corpses. 
Remember Gross-Gorschen, where they wounded our General 
Scharnhorst. We must chastise them for that, and capture 
a few French generals.* We must get at least four of their 
marshals in return for General Scharnhorst, for the fellows 
are light, and four of them do not weigh as much as one 
Scharnhorst. Now, tell me, shall we get those four French 
marshals?” 

“Yes, Father Blucher, yes!” shouted the Prussians, jubi- 
lantly. “Long live Father Blucher!” 

“ Only a little longer, and the day is ours !” cried Gneisenau, 
in a ringing voice. “ The legions of Marshal Ney are charg- 
ing again, but General Barclay, with his Russians, has occu- 
pied the Windmill-knoll, near Gleime, and will repulse him 
as we shall Napoleon’s columns. The heights of Kreckwitz 
are the Thermopylae of the Prussians, and we will fall to a 
man rather than surrender!” 

“Yes, that we will do!” cried the officers, enthusiastically, 
and the soldiers echoed their shouts. 

At this moment a terrific cannonade resounded on the right 
wing of the Prussian troops. “ There are the French !” ex- 
claimed Blucher. “Boys, now bring in those marshals!” 
The cannon roared, the muskets rattled, and, as though 
heaven desired to participate in this struggle of the nations, 
the thunder rolled, and flashes of lightning darted into the 
clouds of battle-smoke. 

But who was galloping up suddenly on a charger covered 
with foam, his hair fluttering in the breeze, and his face pale 
and terrified? It was a Prussian colonel, and still he does 
not join in the exultation of his countrymen. He approached 
Generals Blucher and Gneisenau. 

“Halloo! Lieutenant-Colonel von Muffling,” shouted Blu- 
cher, “are you back? Do you bring us greetings from Bar- 
clay de Tolly? Has he finished the French? Well, we are 
just about to recommence our work here — the last work for 
to-day.” 

“ General,” cried Muffling, anxiously, “ the French will soon 
have finished Barclay de Tolly, and defeated us! For he is 

* General Scharnhorst was wounded at the battle of Gross-Gorschen by Blucher’s 
side. He believed his wound was not dangerous, but he left the headquarters to be 
cured. He went at first to Altenburg, and then to Prague, to attend the peace con- 
gress. His wound reopened, and he died at Prague on the 20th of J une, 1813. 


302 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


unable to bold out. He lias only fifty thousand men, and 
Ney is attacking him with a much larger force. Barclay 
sends me for reenforcements, and if we do not strengthen his 
line, he cannot maintain himself on the Windmill-knoll. In 
a quarter of an hour it will be in Ney’s hands.” 

“Ho; in a quarter of an hour Ney will be in our hands,” 
shouted Blucher, confidently. “ Ney is a marshal, and we 
must have him! Boys,” he cried, drawing himself up in his 
stirrups, and looking back toward his troops — “ boys, we must 
have Marshal Ney, must we not?” 

“Yes, Father Blucher, we must have Marshal Ney!” 

Heaven responded with a loud clap of thunder, the earth 
was shaken by the booming of the cannon, the air was rent by 
the cheers of the living, and the groans and imprecations of 
the wounded and dying. Blucher still stood with his Prus- 
sians on the heights of Kreckwitz, his face radiant with 
enthusiasm, his eye flashing with courage; but a warning 
adviser stood by his side. 

“General,” whispered Muffling, “we are lost if we remain 
here longer. We must retreat.” 

“Retreat!” cried Blucher, in an angry voice, and a clap of 
thunder burst at that moment. 

Muffling pointed silently down into the plain, and over to 
the Windmill-knoll. “Look yonder! Napoleon is advancing 
directly upon our front, the Windmill-knoll is evacuated, Bar- 
clay has gone, and the Russians are routed!” 

“But we still stand,” cried Blucher, triumphantly, “and 
we shall stand in spite of Napoleon and the devil! And, 
then, we are not without support. The Russian artillery 
attached to our corps is thundering against the enemy, and 
York and Kleist are covering our left wing.” 

“But, general, listen! The Russian artillery is firing less 
rapidly; General Kleist is no longer able to cover our left 
wing, for the sovereigns have sent him to Bairuth to cover 
Barclay’s flank; and as for York, he was unable to prevent 
the enemy from placing a battery near Basantwitz. I saw it 
when I rode hither. We are, therefore, in a triple cross-fire.” 
And, as though the enemy intended to confirm these warning 
words, the cannon flashed from three sides, and hurled their 
balls into the ranks of the Prussians. 

The flush of hoped-for victory paled in Blucher’s face; 
Gneisenau grew grave and gloomy. The staff came nearer to 
their chieftain, and tried to read his thoughts in his eyes. 


AFTER THE BATTLE OF BAUTZEN. 


303 


The jubilant shouts of the soldiers were hushed; heaven was 
still thundering, and in the distance burning villages, like 
gigantic torches, lit up the landscape, and shed a blood-red 
lustre over the gray sky. Blucher looked around in silence; 
his lip quivered, his eyebrows contracted, and large drops of 
cold perspiration stood on his forehead. Gneisenau was by 
his side, gloomy and taciturn, like his chieftain. Behind 
them halted the staff-officers, mournful as their leaders, for 
now every one recognized the danger, and knew that, if they 
remained at the “Thermopylae of Prussia,” they would have 
to defend themselves to the last man, or lay down their arms, 
because, as soon as the enemy closed up the fourth side, 
escape would be impossible. * 

On the other side of Blucher halted Colonel Muffling, who 
had brought back such calamitous tidings from his reconnois- 
sance. He pointed silently to the French columns of Marshal 
Ney, that just commenced climbing the heights, and then 
pulled out his watch. “We have fifteen minutes left,” he 
said, in a loud, solemn voice, “fifteen minutes to extricate 
ourselves from the noose. Afterward we shall be hemmed in. 
If we do not improve the time the cowards will surrender, and 
the brave die fighting to the last, but unfortunately without 
promoting in the least the welfare of the fatherland.” f 

Blucher did not reply, gazing down with a sombre eye on 
the enemy, coming up in increasing masses. The cannon of the 
French, firing from three sides, spoke a disheartening lan- 
guage. The Russian batteries had ceased firing, for their 
ammunition was exhausted. 

“ Gneisenau,” asked Blucher at last, in a hollow voice, and 
sighing, as though a stone weighed down his breast, “ Gnei- 
senau, what do you say?” 

“ I must admit that Lieutenant-Colonel von Muffling is 
right,” sighed Gneisenau. “Under the present circumstances 
all further bloodshed will be useless, and it is our bounden 
duty to preserve our men for a better opportunity. We must 
hasten to retreat.” J 

A single savage imprecation burst from Blucher’s lips, but 
only the nearest bystanders heard it, for it was drowned by 
the roar of artillery and the thunder of heaven. With a quick 
jerk he drew his cap over his forehead, so that his eyes were 
shaded — those eyes which had flashed so defiantly, but which 

* Muffling, “ Ausmeinem Leben,” p. 42. 
t Miiffling’s words.— Ibid. , p. 43. 
jGneisenau’s words.— Ibid., p. 43. 


304 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


were now dim, who could say whether from the rain that was 
pouring down, or the smoke of battle, or from despairing 
tears? He slowly turned toward the gentlemen of his statf. 
“We must descend, therefore, from the heights,” he said, in 
a harsh voice. “ Forward ! March down the turnpike toward 
Weissenberg. Make the enemy at least pay dearly for com- 
pelling us to retreat. Let the cavalry advance, covering our 
retreat, and let not a single man or standard fall into the 
hands of the French! Come, gentlemen, listen to what I 
have still to say to you.” 

The quarter of an hour allowed by Muffling had not yet 
elapsed when the Prussians commenced slowly descending the 
heights of Kreckwitz, and marching down the turnpike toward 
Weissenberg. Blucher had ridden from the position at a 
brisk trot, with Gneisenau and the officers of his statf, and 
galloped a short distance along the level valley-road; then 
halting suddenly, and, turning his horse, he looked up to the 
heights, from which the Prussians were descending in perfect 
order, but in gloomy silence. “ This is the second time we 
have been obliged to retreat,” said Blucher, mournfully, “the 
second time that Bonaparte is luckier than we are ; the block- 
heads will now say again that Bonaparte is invincible, and that 
they are fools who resist him, God being on his side, and for- 
tune never forsaking him. But I say it is false; the good God 
is not on his side, but the devil is, and fortune is only lulling 
him to sleep, to plunge him the surer and deeper into the 
abyss. But it is true, nevertheless, that this is the second 
battle we have lost, and the second time that we are obstructed 
in our advance. But I swear here — and may Heaven record 
my oath ! — that this shall be the last time that I fall back ; 
that I will specially pay Bonaparte for my grief and anxiety 
for the past month, and that I will bring him as much trouble 
as one man can to another. What a fearful account Bona- 
parte has to settle with me! how much he has to pay me! 
But, no matter ; my sword is sharp, and will surely erase one 
item of his indebtedness after another. From this day I will 
begin. Will you lend me your assistance, gentlemen?” 

“Yes,” replied the officers of his statf, “we will!” 

“Well, then it is all right,” said Blucher, nodding; “from 
to-day M. Napoleon had better beware of me. Hitherto, I 
have only hated him; now I abhor him, and the word back- 
ward exists no longer for me and my Prussians!” He quickly 
galloped up to his troops. “Well, boys,” he cried, “the 


AFTER THE BATTLE OF BAUTZEN. 


305 


heights of Kreckwitz are of no use to ns, and it is better for 
us, therefore, to descend from them, and leave them to Bona- 
parte, who may put them into his pocket, if it affords him 
pleasure; but henceforth let us reverse matters, and put him 
into our pocket and keep him warm; otherwise, he might feel 
cold again, as he did in Russia. Forward now, boys; for- 
ward ! And as we are now moving, I am sure you see that we 
do not move backward ; he who asserts that we are retreating 
is a blockhead. Forward!” 

But whatever Blucher said — how plausibly soever he tried 
to represent to his troops that they were not retreating, but 
advancing — it was unfortunately but too true that the battle 
of Bautzen was lost, and that the Prussians and Russians were 
obliged to fall back. It is true, they did so in excellent 
order, but — they retreated and Napoleon could boast of a new 
victory on German soil. 

The whole army of the allies commenced retreating about 
dusk on the same day, and turned again toward Silesia. The 
troops marched sullenly, and sombre too were the faces of the 
two sovereigns, the Emperor Alexander and King Frederick 
William. Full of hope that they would achieve a victory, 
they had taken the field with their troops; but now their 
hopes were blasted, and they were compelled to return whence 
they had set out. 

While the troops were marching down the wide highways, 
the two sovereigns, preceding their forces, took a short cut to 
Reichenbach. They were alone; only two footmen followed 
them at some distance ; not a vestige of their earthly greatness 
surrounded them. They were both silent; slowly riding 
along, the king looked grave, while the emperor frequently 
turned his eyes, with an expression of mournful emotion, upon 
his friend, or raised them heavenward with an entreating 
glance. Silence reigned around ; only at a great distance was 
heard the dull rumbling of wagons, and here and there on the 
horizon still flickered the burning ruins of a village. 

For some time they thus rode side by side, when the king 
stopped his horse. “ There must be a change!” he exclaimed, 
in a tone of grief and despair. “We are moving eastward, 
but we must advance westward.” 

“We must all move eastward,” said the emperor, in a deep, 
fervent tone; “ from the east came our salvation; eastward, 
therefore, every good Christian turns his face whenever he 
prays for assistance and redemption.” 


306 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


The king, perhaps, did not hear these words, for he made 
no reply, but looked moody and thoughtful. Both did not 
notice that the sky had brightened, and that the sun in its 
splendor was shedding its setting beams. It was a beautiful 
evening. The earth, refreshed by the rain, exhaled sweet 
odors ; the air was fresh and balmy, and the blooming fields 
waved as a gentle sea. The sovereigns were too much con- 
cerned with themselves to be attracted by the beauties of out- 
ward nature. Their eyes were turned inward. 

“Oh,” resumed the king, after a pause, “what will be the 
end of all this? Were not they right who cautioned me 
against this war, and pointed to Napoleon’s luck in order to 
prevent me from entering upon it? Have not my troops done 
all that can be demanded of human strength? Have they not 
braved with heroic resolution all fatigues and privations, and 
behaved in battle with unsurpassed valor? Have not the Rus- 
sians also manifested the noblest devotion, and the most in- 
trepid constancy? And still our armies have been defeated 
in two pitched battles — and still we are retreating? What 
have we to hope for? What new resources have we? May we 
still hope for the accession of Austria to our alliance?” 

He uttered these questions in an undertone and thought- 
fully, as if to himself, and forgetful of the presence of another 
who could hear him. When the emperor, therefore, replied 
to him, Frederick William gave a start, and raised his head 
almost in surprise. 

“No,” said the emperor, gravely — “no, we must not count 
on Austria; or, if you please, not yet. The mission of Count 
Stadion ought to have proved this to us. They sent their 
diplomatist to treat with us that, in case of a victory, we 
might not consider Austria, too, as our enemy. Now, that 
we have not been victorious, Count Stadion will undoubtedly 
leave our headquarters, repair to those of Napoleon, and assure 
him of the most faithful and sincere devotion of Austria. 
Austria desires only negotiation — to fight with words, not 
with the sword.” 

“Bat, without Austria,” cried the king, vehemently, “we 
are too weak! Oh, at times it seems to me as though no 
human strength were able to accomplish any thing against the 
surpassing genius of Napoleon, and as though God alone, who 
made him so great, and raised him so high, could humble 
him! We have done all that men could do, but it is all in 
vain ! He has conquered !” 


AFTER THE BATTLE OF BAUTZEN. 


307 


“ But we have made him purchase his victories very dearly,” 
said Alexander, “ and if we yielded, it was at least with honor. 
None of our battalions were dispersed, and I believe the num- 
ber of prisoners is about the same on both sides. On the 
whole, nothing is lost as yet, and with God’s help we will 
soon do better.” 

“ Yes, but only with God’s help,” cried the king; “ we need 
it above all; without it we are lost.” 

“But God is with us,” exclaimed Alexander, enthusiasti- 
cally, “I know it; I have gained this firm conviction ever 
since the great and terrible days of Moscow and the Beresina. 
God sent me those days of trial and terror that I might believe 
— and now I do believe. Until then I was a man enthralled 
by worldly doubts, relying upon my own strength, and rejoic- 
ing, not without vanity, in my earthly greatness. I thought 
of God, I loved Him, but He did not fill my whole soul — I 
pursued my own path, and diverted myself. But the con- 
flagration of Moscow illuminated my mind, and the judgment 
of the Lord on the ice-fields filled my heart with a fervor of 
faith which it had never felt until then. With the flames of 
the holy city the hand of God wrote on the reddened sky, ‘I 
am the Lord thy God!’ With the rivers of blood flowing 
from the grand army of the French, the finger of the Lord 
wrote on the snow-fields, ‘Thou shalt have no other gods be- 
fore me!’ Since then there is a wonderful joy, an indescrib- 
able humility, and an immovable faith in my heart — since 
then I have become another man. To the deliverance of 
Europe from utter ruin I owe my own soul’s salvation.” * 

“It is He alone who is able to deliver us,” said the king, 
profoundly moved ; “ I bow my head in humility, and confess 
that we are nothing without Him. May He send us His 
support!” 

“He will,” exclaimed Alexander, fervently; “God will be 
with us, for we are engaged in a just cause!” 

“Yes, it is just,” responded Frederick William, with deep 
emotion, and, slowly raising his eyes, he whispered, “ Pray 
for us, Louisa, that we may conquer!” 

Both were silent, and, with pious emotion, they lifted their 
hearts to heaven. Suddenly a joyful gleam kindled the face 
of the king, and, offering his hand to Alexander, he said in a 
deeply-moved tone, “We must not despond, hut courageously 
continue the struggle. If God, as I hope, bless our united 

*The emperor’s words.— Vide Eylert, “ Frederick William III.,” vol. ii., p. 248. 


308 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


efforts, we will profess before the whole world that the glory 
belongs to Him alone.” * 

“Yes,” cried Alexander, putting his right hand into that 
of his friend. “ Let us not be ashamed to declare that the 
glory belongs to God. And now, my friend,” exclaimed the 
emperor, when they halted, “ let us repair to our headquarters, 
and hold a council of war with our generals.” 

“Very well,” replied Frederick William; “let us examine 
the strength of our forces, and see what ought to be done. 
The battle of Bautzen must not be the end of this war.” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

BAD NEWS. 

A moment of repose had interrupted the great contest. 
Napoleon had offered an armistice to the allies prior to the 
battle of Bautzen ; they rejected it, full of confidence in their 
strength. After the battle of Bautzen, the offer was repeated, 
and accepted. Time was needed for levying additional troops, 
organizing new regiments, and concentrating new corps. 
But Napoleon, deceived by his victories, relying on his good 
luck, and on the mistakes of his enemies, was fully satisfied 
that this armistice was but the forerunner of peace; and that 
the allies, warned by the two lost battles, would be eager to 
accept any peace not altogether dishonorable. The negoti- 
ations were opened at Prague. France, Prussia, and Russia, 
sent their plenipotentiaries to that city; and Austria, having 
taken upon herself the part of a mediator, instructed her 
envoy, Minister Metternich, to participate in the congress. 
The armistice was from the 4th of June to the 24th of July — 
time enough for agreeing on a peace equally advantageous to 
both sides — time enough, too, in case it should not be con- 
cluded, to concentrate the armies and bring reenforcements 
from France. 

So soon as the armistice was signed, Napoleon returned to 
Dresden, to await there the result of the negotiations. At the 
Marcolini Palace the emperor again established his head- 
quarters; but no brilliant festivals were given, as previous to 
his expedition to Russia; the kings and princes of Germany 
did not gather round the powerful conqueror. The Emperor 

* The king’s words.— Vide Eylert, “Frederick William III.,’’ vol. ii , p. 248. 


BAD NEWS. 


309 


of Austria remained quietly but sullenly at Vienna; the King 
of Prussia was at Reichenbach, and was now the enemy of 
Napoleon, and all the princes of the German Confederation of 
the Rhine, who, but a year before, were humble courtiers of 
Napoleon, kept aloof in morose silence, or refused obedience 
to their former master, and raised difficulties when called 
upon to furnish new troops and open additional resources. 
None of them came to offer homage to him whom they had 
just feared as the most powerful ruler in the world.. Only the 
old, feeble King of Saxony (who, at the commencement of the 
war had fled with his millions, and the diamonds of the 
Green Vault, to Plauen, in the most remote corner of his 
territories),* returned at the rather imperious request of Na- 
poleon to Dresden. The emperor dined with him sometimes, 
but only in the most intimate family circle, and without any 
outward, splendor ; at night he went to the French theatre, 
which had been ordered to Dresden during the armistice. 
Sometimes, his favorites, the ladies Mars and Georges, and the 
great Talma, were allowed to sup with the emperor after the 
performance, and the beautiful Mars, the impassioned fervor 
of the gifted Georges, and the conversation of the no less 
genial than adroit Talma, succeeded in dispelling the em- 
peror’s discontent. But no sooner was he alone with his 
thoughts, his labors, his plans, than his countenance assumed 
its sombre expression. Thus days and weeks elapsed, and 
the congress was still assembled at Prague; the end of the 
armistice was drawing nigh, and the plenipotentiaries had not 
yet been able to agree on the conditions of peace. 

It was on the morning of the 28th of June. Napoleon had 
just finished his breakfast, and entered his map-room to con- 
ceive there the plans of future campaigns, when the door of 
the reception-room opened, and Minister Maret, Duke de 
Bassano, came in. Maret belonged to the few men in whom 
his master placed implicit confidence, and whose fidelity he 
never doubted; to those who had at all times free access to 
him, and were permitted to enter his apartments without being 
announced Nevertheless, his arrival seemed to surprise Na- 
poleon. Never before had the duke entered his room at so 
early an hour, for he knew well that the emperor, engaged in 
examining his maps and devising plans, did not like to he 
disturbed. It was undoubtedly something unusual that in- 
duced the Duke de Bassano to come to him at such a time. 

* “ Lebensbilder,” vol. iii., p. 466. 


310 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Napoleon cast a quick glance on Maret’s face. Standing 
up beside the map-table, and leaning his hand upon it, he 
asked, vehemently, “Well, Maret, what is it?” 

“ Sire, I have come only to deliver to your majesty a few 
letters which the courier has just brought from Paris,” said 
the duke, handing him some sealed packages. 

“Is a letter from the empress among them?” asked Napo- 
leon, hastily. 

“Yes, sire.” 

The emperor had already found it, and, throwing the others 
upon the table, he hastily opened the one from his wife and 
read it. His face, which until then had been so stern and 
gloomy, gradually assumed a milder and kindlier expression. 

“Ah, dear Louisa,” he said, when he had read it, “how 
affectionately she writes, how she is yearning for me, and how 
well she knows how to tell me of the King of Rome, who is 
constantly inquiring for his father, and every night, when he 
goes to bed, calls aloud, ‘Dear papa emperor come back soon !’ ” 

“A call, sire, in which, I am satisfied, all France joins,” 
said Maret, quickly. 

“Ah!” exclaimed the emperor, contemptuously shrugging 
his shoulders, “ I know well that France — that even my mar- 
shals join in it, not from any devotion to myself, but because 
they want peace. The little King of Rome, however, is long- 
ing for me, and the empress, too, is wishing for my return, 
without caring much whether there is war or peace. These 
two love me! Ah, what a happy family would we three be 
if a lasting peace could be established ! I am tired of war ; 
like all of you, I am yearning to return home, and to enjoy 
a little the fruits of our numerous victories.” 

“Sire,” said Maret, in a low, entreating voice, “it is easy 
for your majesty to do so, and to restore peace to Europe.” 

“ Do you wish also to join in the nonsense asserted by the 
fools?” asked Napoleon, sharply. “ Always the same air — 
the same strain! You at least, Maret, ought not to sing it, 
for you alone are aware of the proposals and negotiations be- 
tween me and my enemies, and should know that it does not 
depend on me alone to restore peace, but that I shall, perhaps, 
only be he who must receive it.” 

“ Still, sire, a few concessions on the part of your majesty 
would be sufficient to bring about peace,” Maret ventured to 
say. 

“ What do you mean?” inquired Napoleon, whose voice now 


BAD NEWS. 


311 


assumed an angry tone. “ Do you intend to intimate, by your 
longing for concessions, that I should submit to the disgrace- 
ful and humiliating terms on which Austria gives me hopes of 
her further friendship and alliance? She dares ask of me the 
restoration of Illyria and the territory annexed to the grand - 
duchy of Warsaw; she demands for Prussia the evacuation of 
her fortresses, the restitution of Dantzic, and the restoration 
of the whole sea-shore of Northern Germany. And Austria, 
in making these proposals to me, in her equivocal part as 
mediator, does not do so with the friendliness of an ally, but 
she dares to threaten me, to say to me, ‘If France does not 
accept, Austria will be obliged to side with the enemies of 
France, and make common cause with them.’ I am ready to 
make peace, but I shall die sword in hand rather than sign 
conditions forced upon me. I will negotiate,- but will not 
allow them to dictate laws to me.” * 

“ Sire, none would dare dictate laws to your majesty. On 
the contrary, Austria will be glad if you merely declare that 
you are ready to negotiate, and she will not have much to ask. 
She will be content if you restore Illyria to her; and I am 
convinced of it, never will the Emperor Francis ally himself 
seriously with the enemies of his son-in-law.” 

“But the Emperor Francis is not his cabinet,” exclaimed 
Napoleon. “ I might, perhaps, repose confidence in the per- 
sonal attachment of my father-in-law, but this could not blind 
me to the policy of his cabinet. This policy never changes. 
Treaties of alliance and marriages may somewhat retard its 
course, but never deflect it. Austria never renounces what 
she was compelled to cede. When she is weaker than her 
enemy, she resorts to peace, but this is always only an armis- 
tice for her, and, in signing it, she thinks of a new war. 
Such has been her conduct during the long series of years 
during which I have been fighting and negotiating with her. 
When closely pressed, she always accepted peace, and offered 
me her hand for the conclusion of an alliance; but whenever 
a reverse befell me, she withdrew her hand and broke the 
alliance. Now believing that she sees her own interest, she 
immediately resumes a hostile attitude toward me. She will 
open the passes of Bohemia to the allies, and thereby permit 
them to turn the positions of the French army, attack us in 
the rear, and cut us off from France. In a word, Austria is 
unable to forget any thing ! She will remain our enemy, not 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide Beitzke, vol. i., p. 560. 


312 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


only so long as she has losses to make up, but so long as the 
power of France might threaten her with new humiliations. 
This instinct of jealousy is more powerful than her attach- 
ment; she will always strive to aggrandize herself and to 
weaken France, and if I should grant her Illyria to-day, she 
would, perhaps, to-morrow claim the whole of Lombardy, and 
her former provinces in the Netherlands.* Do not deceive 
yourself about it, Maret, and do not think that Austria wants 
peace with us because the Emperor Francis is my father-in- 
law. I must dictate peace to them sword in hand, and then 
they will hasten to remind me that I am the son-in-law of the 
emperor, and in consideration of this relationship they will 
ask of me favorable terms.” 

“But this, it seems to me, is the very situation in which 
your majesty is placed now,” exclaimed Maret. “Your maj- 
esty has recently achieved two new victories.” 

“But what victories!” said Napoleon, gloomily; “they 
have cost me as many soldiers as the enemy, and procured me 
no advantages. I had hoped to gain many trophies; but in 
the battles of Lutzen and Bautzen not a cannon, not a flag, 
but a few insignificant prisoners fell into our hands. After 
two dreadful massacres, we have obtained no results whatever 
— and those men have not left me a single nail to pick up.f 
They are no longer the soldiers of Jena, you may be sure of it, 
Maret; another spirit animates them and their commanders. 
The Prussians fought like lions in those battles, and their 
commander, General Blucher, is like a chieftain in the Illiad. 
He is at the same time a general and a private soldier, a mad- 
cap and a Ulysses. The army loves him, and the king con- 
fides in him. He hates me, and has an excellent memory for 
his defeats of Auerstadt and Lubeck, and wants to take 
revenge for them.” 

“But it is unnecessary for Russia to take revenge,” said 
Maret. 

“ Yes,” murmured Napoleon, gloomily. “On her snow- 
fields I lost my army, and perhaps also my luck. But, no 
matter; I shall struggle on to the end, and compel Fortune to 
become again my friend, that I may do without other allies. 
She surely owes me attachment and fidelity, for have I not 
again paid her a heavy tribute? was it not necessary for me 
to act like Polycrates to keep out of bad luck? He sacrificed 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide “ The Emperor Francis and Metternich,” p. 60. 

t Napoleon’s words.— Constant, vol. v. 


BAD NEWS. 


313 


only a ring to the gods, while I sacrificed two friends to For- 
tune, and one of them my best friend — Duroc. The victory 
of Lutzen cost me Bessieres; that of Bautzen, Duroc. It was 
a heavy sacrifice, Maret ; my heart is still bleeding in conse- 
quence of it, and this wound will never heal.” 

Maret made no reply, but turned his head aside, and his 
face had a strange expression of uneasiness and embarrassment. 

Napoleon noticed it, and slightly shrugged his shoulders. 
“ You think that I grow sentimental, duke,” he said, 
rudely, “and you mean that my long military experience 
should have rendered me insensible to such accidents. You 
are right ; let us refer to them no more. Let us rather read 
what the courier has brought.” 

He stretched out his hand for the other letters, and took up 
the first one without looking at it. When he saw the super- 
scription, his face brightened, and, fixing a quick, reproach- 
ful glance upon Maret, he said : “ Fate is less rigorous than 
you are, Maret. It reminds me that faithful friends still re- 
main, and that all the companions of my youth are not yet 
dead. There is a letter from Junot! He is one of my faith- 
ful friends!” Opening it, he read hastily, and his face 
darkened. “Maret,” he cried, in an angry voice, “read — see 
what Junot dares write to me!” He handed the letter to 
Maret. “Head it aloud,” he cried, “otherwise I shall be 
afraid lest my eyes deceive me, and I mistake his words. Not 
the commencement, but the last page is what I want to hear.” 

Maret read in a tremulous voice: “ ‘I, who love your maj- 
esty with the fervor which the savage feels for the sun — I, 
who belong to you with body and soul— must tell you the 
truth; and this is: we must wage an eternal war for you, tut 
I will do so no more ! I want peace ! I want at length to be 
able to rest my weary head and aching limbs in my house, in 
the midst of my family, to enjoy their devotion, and no longer 
to be a stranger to them — to enjoy what I have purchased with 
a treasure that is more precious than all the riches of India — 
with my blood, with the blood of a man of honor, a good 
Frenchman, a true patriot. Well, then, I ask — I demand — 
the repose that I have purchased by twenty-two years of active 
service, and by seventeen wounds, from which my blood has 
welled, first for my country, and then for your glory. It is 
enough ! — my country needs repose, and your glory is as 
radiant as the sun. I repeat, therefore, I want peace. I 
speak in the name of all your marshals and generals, in the 
21 


314 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


name of your army, in the name of all France: we demand 
2oeace ; give it to us, then! — Junot, Duke d' Abr antes.' ” * 

“Well!” inquired Napoleon, when Maret had read the let- 
ter, “what do you think of this impudence?” 

“Sire,” said Maret, in a low, tremulous voice, “your maj- 
esty knows well that the Duke d’Abrantes is very dangerously 
ill, and that he is said to be subject to frequent fits of 
insanity.” 

“ It is true, it is the language of a madman, but one who 
knows very well what he says. For he is right ; he dares utter 
what all my marshals are thinking, and gives utterance to 
their thoughts, because he imagines that my friendship for 
him gives him that right. The fool ! I shall prove to him 
that I am, first and above all, the emperor, and that the em- 
peror will, without regard to the person, punish the man who 
is so audacious as to threaten him. Oh, I am glad that it is 
Junot who has made himself the mouth-piece of my generals 
and marshals! I shall punish him with inexorable rigor, and 
that will silence the others forever. They will not dare that 
which not even Junot was permitted to do with impunity; 
they will obey when my first anger has crushed this traitor 
Junot. For he is a traitor, a — ” 

“Oh, sire, I implore you, do not proceed!” interposed 
Maret; “have mercy upon him who stands already before a 
higher Judge, to receive his sentence!” 

“ What do you mean?” asked Napoleon. 

“I mean, sire,” replied Maret, solemnly, “that I came to 
bring you a sad message, and that your majesty, therefore, 
just now did me injustice. Sire, when you deplored the death 
of your lamented friend, the Duke de Frioul, I was silent and 
embarrassed, not because I deemed such regrets unbecoming, 
but because I was filled with unbounded grief at the thought 
that I had come to communicate a similar affliction. The 
courier brought me also a letter from M. Albert de Comminges, 
Junot ’s brother-in-law. He requests me therein to inform 
your majesty of a melancholy occurrence — the Duke d’Abran- 
tes is dead! Here is a letter from M. de Comminges to your 
majesty.” 

The emperor made no reply, but his face, which generally 
seemed immovable, commenced quivering, and his lips trem- 
bled. He took the letter in silence, and, opening it with a 
hasty hand, began to read it. But suddenly he dropped it, 

* “Memoirs of the Duchess d’Abrantes, ” b. xvi., p. 323. 


BAD NEWS. 


315 


and, pressing both his hands to his forehead, he groaned 
aloud. Then he quickly stooped down, picked up the letter 
and read it through. “Junot!” he then cried in a tone of 
profound woe — “Junot!” He crumpled the letter in his 
hands, and, with an expression from the depths of his heart, 
he repeated, “Junot! Oh, my God, Junot, too!” 

At this moment his wandering eye fell upon Maret, who 
was gazing at him, pale and filled with profound compassion. 
Napoleon started and concealed the tears which came to his 
eyes. Before an observer he was not accustomed to show him- 
self a man overcome by grief. He smiled, but with an inde- 
scribably mournful expression, and said in a firm voice, 
“ Another brave soldier gone ! The third victim that the war 
has required of me, Maret ! It takes the very men who were 
indispensable to me, because they set so shining an example of 
bravery and fidelity to the whole army. That is the only 
reason why I complain!” 

“Your majesty has a twofold right to complain,” said 
Maret, in his calm voice; “Junot loved your majesty with the 
obedience of a servant, the submissiveness of a child, the en- 
thusiasm of a pupil, the ardor of a friend. He would have 
gone through fire for you, and he was justified in saying that 
he loved your majesty with the love the savage feels for the 
sun. Your majesty was his sun!” 

“Yes, he loved me,” said Napoleon, in a low voice, drop- 
ping his head, on his breast, “and I could count upon his 
fidelity. We had spent our youth together, had overcome to- 
gether a thousand dangers, and courageously braved the vicis- 
situdes of fate. His star had risen with mine. Will not 
mine sink with his? Oh, Junot, how could you leave me 
now, when you knew that I stood so greatly in need of you? 
Junot, this is the first time that you desert me, and forget 
your plighted faith. I am on the eve of a great and doubtful 
war, surrounded by enemies — and my friends are deserting 
me and escaping into the grave!” He paused, bowing his head 
lower upon his breast, and wrinkling his forehead in his 
grief. A sad silence ensued, which Maret dared not interrupt 
by a motion or a word. At length, the emperor raised his 
face again, resuming his usual coldness and indifference. 
“Maret,” he said, in a firm voice, “I have no one in Illyria 
now, since Junot, governor of that province, has died. I 
must send another governor. But whom?” 

“Sire,” said Maret, in a timid voice, “will you not take 


316 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the proposals of Austria into consideration? She demands 
nothing but Illyria as the price of her alliance and friendship. 
Fate itself seems to give us a sign to grant this demand, for 
it has removed the governor of Illyria.” 

“Fate!” cried Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders, “you 
only acknowledge its hints when it suits your purposes; you 
deny its existence when it would seem to be contrary to your 
wishes. Fate caused the governor of Illyria to die, because, 
as you yourself said, he was subject to fits of insanity; it has 
thereby given me an opportunity to place a sensible and pru- 
dent man in Junot’s stead, a man who will not dare tell me 
such impudent things as you read to me from his letter. Well, 
then, I will obey the hint of Fate. Write immediately to 
Fouche. He is at Naples; tell him to set out at once and 
come to Dresden. I intend to appoint him governor of Illyria. 
Dispatch a courier with the letter. But wait! I have not 
yet read all the dispatches brought from Paris.” 

He stepped back to the table, and took one of the letters 
from it. “A letter from the Duke de Rovigo,” he said, in 
a contemptuous tone, “ from the police minister of Paris ! 
He will tell me a great many stories ; he will pretend to have 
seen many evil spirits, and, after all, not know half of what 
he ought to know, and what Fouche would have known if he 
still held that position. There, read it, Maret, and commu- 
nicate the most important passages to me.” He threw him- 
self into the chair that stood in front of his desk, and, taking 
a penknife, commenced whittling the wooden side-arm, while 
Maret unfolded the dispatch and quickly glanced over its 
contents. 

“Sire,” he said, “this dispatch contains surprising news. 
It speaks of a new enemy who might rise against your majesty.” 

“Well,” said Napoleon, who was just cutting a large splinter 
from the chair, “ what new enemy is it?” 

“Sire,” said Maret, shrugging his shoulders, “it is Louis 
XVIII.” 

Napoleon started, and looked at his minister with a flash 
of anger. “ What do you mean?” he asked, sternly. “ Who 
is Louis XVIII.? Where is the country over which he 
rules?” 

“ Sire, I merely intended to designate the brother of the 
unfortunate King Louis XVI.” 

“My uncle!” said Napoleon, with a proud smile, driving 
his knife again into the back of the chair. “ Well, what 


BAD NEWS. 


317 


then? Whereby has the Count de Lille surprised the world 
with the news of his existence?” 

“ Sire, by a proclamation addressed to the French, and in 
which he implores them to return to their legitimate lord 
and king, making them many promises, which, however, do 
not contain any thing but what the French possess already 
by the grace of your majesty.” 

Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. “ Savary, then, has at 
length seen a copy of the English newspapers which published 
this proclamation,” he said. “I read it several weeks ago.” 

“ No, sire, it seems that the proclamation has not only ap- 
peared in the English newspapers, but is circulating through- 
out France. The Duke de Rovigo reports that secret agents 
of the Count de Lille are actively at work in France. They 
are scattering every day thousands of printed copies of the 
proclamation among the people. They are circulated at night 
in the streets, secretly pushed under the doors into the houses 
and rooms so that the police agents are unable to take them 
away. These copies, it appears, are printed on hand-presses, 
for their lines are often irregular and slanting, and indicate 
an unpractised hand, but those who receive them try to 
decipher them, and deliver them to the police only after hav- 
ing read them.” * 

Napoleon said nothing; he was still whittling the back of 
his chair, and did not once look up to his minister, who 
stood before him in reverential silence. “ I thought I had 
crushed this serpent of legitimacy under my foot,” he mur- 
mured at last to himself, “ but it still lives, and tries again 
to rise against me. Ah, I despise it, and I have reason to do 
so. I alone am now the legitimate ruler of France ; the fifty 
battles in which I have fought and conquered for France are 
my ancestors; the will of the French people has made me 
emperor, and the voice of all the sovereign princes of Europe 
has recognized my throne. The daughter of an emperor is 
my partner ; and the King of Eome, the future emperor of 
the French, will be more of a legitimate ruler than any other 
prince, for the battles of his father and the ancestors of the 
Hapsburgs form his pedigree. Let the Count de Lille, then, 
flood France with copies of his proclamation, I shall in the 
mean time win battles for France, and with the bulletins of 
my victories drive his proclamations from the field. I — ” 

At this moment the door opened, and Roustan’s black face 

* “M6moires du Due Rovigo,” vol. vi M p. 351. 


318 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


looked in. “Sire, the Duke de Vicenza requests an audi- 
ence,” he said. 

“Oaulaincourt!” exclaimed Napoleon, surprised, rising 
and throwing the penknife on the floor. “ Oaulaincourt ! 
Let him come in!” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE TRAITORS. 

Roustan stepped back, and the imposing form of the Duke 
de Vicenza appeared on the threshold. The emperor hastily 
met him and looked at him with a keen, piercing glance. 
“Oaulaincourt,” he exclaimed, “whence do you come, and 
what do you want here?” 

“ Sire,” said the duke, gravely and solemnly, “ I come from 
Prague, whither the order of your majesty had sent me, to 
attend the congress and to conduct the negotiations in the 
name of your majesty.” 

“ These negotiations are broken off, then, as you have come 
without having been recalled?” 

“ No, they are not broken off, but I have important news 
to communicate to your majesty, and as I think that we are 
served best when serving ourselves, I have made myself the 
bearer of my own dispatches, to be sure that they reach your 
majesty in time. I have travelled post-haste, and shall return 
to Prague in the same manner.” 

“Well, then, inform me of the contents of your dispatches 
orally and quickly.” 

“ Sire, I inform your majesty that the Count de Metternich 
is on the road to this city to convey to you the ultimatum of 
Austria.” 

A flash of anger burst from the emperor’s eyes. “ He dares 
meet me! does he not fear lest I crush him by hurling his 
duplicity and treachery into his face? For I know that 
Austria is playing a double game, negotiating at the same 
time with me and my enemies.” 

“But it is still in the power of your majesty to attach 
Austria to France, and secure a continued alliance with her,” 
exclaimed the Duke de Vicenza. “ This is the reason why I 
have hastened hither : to implore your majesty not to reject 
entirely, in the first outburst of your anger, the proposals of 


THE TRAITORS. 


319 


Austria, however inadmissible they may appear to be. I left 
Vienna simultaneously with Count Metternich, but succeeded 
in getting somewhat the start of him; he will be here in an 
hour, and I have, therefore, time enough to communicate to 
your majesty important news which I learned at Prague yes- 
terday, and which is sufficiently grave to influence perhaps 
your resolutions.” 

“ Speak!” commanded the emperor, throwing himself again 
into the chair, and taking, for want of a penknife, a pair of 
scissors from his desk, in order to bore the back of the chair 
with it. Speak!” 

“ In the first place, I have to inform your majesty that the 
Emperor of Austria has left Vienna for Castle Gitschin, in 
Bohemia, and that an interview of the Emperor Francis with 
the allied monarchs took place there on the 20th of June.” 

“Ah, the first step to open hostility has been taken, then,” 
cried Napoleon. 

“This interview, however, led to no results,” added Cau- 
laincourt. “ The Emperor Francis, on the contrary, declared 
emphatically' that he was still merely a mediator, and would 
consider the alliance with France as dissolved, if your majesty 
should reject the ultimatum with which he should send Met- 
ternich to Dresden.” 

“ That is the equivocal and insidious language which the 
Austrian diplomacy has always used,” exclaimed the emperor, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ They want to keep on good terms 
with all, in order to succeed in being the friend of him who 
i6 victorious. My father-in-law, it seems, has learned by 
heart, and recited the lesson which Metternich taught him. 
Proceed, Caulaincourt. ” 

“ Next, I have to inform your majesty that a definite treaty 
was concluded yesterday between Austria and the allies. It 
was concluded at Reichenbach. Austria has solemnly engaged 
to declare war against you if you refuse to accept her terms, 
the last she would send. Besides, Prussia and Russia con- 
cluded a treaty with England, which engaged to assist both 
powers with money and materiel , and which, in return, re- 
ceived the promise that Hanover, England’s possession in 
Germany, should be considerably enlarged at the end of the 
war, and that new territories should be added to it.” 

“ And the short-sighted monarchs have been foolish enough 
to grant this to England!” cried Napoleon, with a sneer. 
“ In their blind hatred against me they grant more territory 


320 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


in Germany to their most dangerous enemy, that England 
may spread still further the vast net of her egotism, and catch 
all Germany in it, flood the country with her manufactured 
goods, and drive the commerce of the continent into British 
hands! Ah, those gentlemen will soon perceive what a mis- 
take they have committed in yielding to the demands of those 
greedy English traders. For if England gives money instead 
of asking it, she must have a great many substantial advantages 
in view, and these she can obtain only at the expense of the 
German sovereigns, to whom she will furnish subsidies now. 
Are you through with your news, Caulaincourt?” 

“No, sire, I have still something to add,” said the Duke of 
Vicenza, in a melancholy voice. 

The emperor looked at him with a piercing glance, which 
seemed to fathom the depths of his soul. 

“Speak!” he said, quickly. 

“Your majesty knows that the crown prince of Sweden, 
Bernadotte, landed with his army at Stralsund on the 20th 
of May?” 

“ Yes, I do,” said Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. “ My 
former marshal, who acquired in my service a name and some 
fame, whom I permitted to accept the dignity of crown prince 
of Sweden that was offered him, a Frenchman, had the mean- 
ness to turn his arms against his country, and ally himself 
with the enemies of France. But still it seems that his 
courage is failing him. A month ago he disembarked in 
Germany, and is idle with his troops in Mecklenburg. He 
allowed Hamburg to fall; he did nothing to save Branden- 
burg, and appears ready to embark again for Sweden. Look- 
ing the crime of treason full in the face, he was unable to 
bear the thought of it, and will retreat from it to the steps of 
the Swedish throne.” 

“No, sire,” said Caulaincourt, gravely, “the crown prince 
of Sweden has made up his mind, and hesitates no longer. 
The Emperor Alexander sent an envoy to Bernadotte, and 
requested of him an interview with the monarchs of Prussia 
and Russia, for the purpose of concerting with them a joint 
plan of operations for the campaign. Bernadotte, thanks to 
the persuasive eloquence of the Russian envoy, eagerly ac- 
cepted this invitation, and the interview is to take place on 
the 9th of July at Trachenberg, in Silesia. The crown prince 
is already on the road with a truly royal suite, and he has 
been solemnly assured that the sovereigns will receive him 


THE TRAITORS. 


321 


at Trachenberg with all the honors due his rank as a sover- 
eign and legitimate prince. The envoy of the Emperor of 
Russia is accompanying Bernadotte on this journey, to 
strengthen the favorable dispositions of the crown prince, and 
render him at once an active and energetic member of the 
alliance.” 

“Who is this envoy whom Alexander has dispatched to 
Bernadotte?” asked Napoleon. 

“ Sire, it is Count Pozzo di Borgo.” 

“Ah, my Corsican countryman, and once an ardent friend,” 
exclaimed Napoleon. “ He has never forgiven me for not 
having assisted him, the enthusiastic republican, in becoming 
King of Corsica, but having left France in possession of my 
native country. As he was unable to become a king, M. 
Pozzo di Borgo entered the service of the Czar of Russia to 
fight against me, his countryman, with the power of his 
tongue, as my other countryman with the arms of the Swedes. 
Well, I think it will not do the allies much good to unite 
with traitors and apostates, and to look for assistance against 
me from them. I gain more moral weight by this struggle 
against traitors than my enemies by their support. Berna- 
dotte’s treason is my ally.” 

“ Sire, another man has joined the traitor, a Frenchman, 
who wants to fight against France, against his emperor and 
former comrade.” 

“ Still another! A third traitor! Who is it?” 

“ Sire, it is General Moreau.” 

“ What! has Moreau returned from America?” asked Napo- 
leon, looking up quickly. 

“ Yes, sire ; he has left the banks of the Delaware to fight 
against his country, as a general of the Emperor of Russia.” 

The emperor looked thoughtfully, and suddenly he raised 
his eyes, while a pleased expression lit up his countenance. 

“My enemies assert that I have a heart of iron,” he said, 
in a gentle voice; “they charge me with being insensible to 
human emotions — to compassion, friendship, and love. Well, 
then, I could have had Moreau and Bernadotte both killed ; 
they were in my power, and deserved death. Moreau had 
entered into a conspiracy against me and the existing laws of 
our country — a conspiracy whose object was to assassinate me. 
I believe I would have been justified if I had made him feel 
the rigor of my laws, and expiate his murderous intent by 
death. Bernadotte disobeyed my orders in two battles; I 


322 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


would have been justified in having him tried by a court- 
martial, which would certainly have passed sentence of death 
upon him. I permitted Moreau to emigrate to America, and 
indulge his republican predilections there without hinder- 
ance; and Bernadotte to go to Sweden, and gratify the desires 
of his ambitious heart. I pardoned both because I loved 
them. They now reward me by allying themselves with my 
enemies. This is all right, however, for I have placed both 
under heavy obligations, and nothing is more difficult to for- 
give than benefits.” 

“ Sire, as I have alluded to these traitors, I must mention 
still another. General Jomini, adjutant-general of Marshal 
Ney, has deserted his post and gone over to the camp of the 
allies to offer his services to the sovereigns. He has become 
a member of the Emperor Alexander’s staff. n 

“ Well,” cried Napoleon, with the semblance of unalloyed 
mirth, “ the world and posterity will have to pardon me now 
if I lose a few battles in this campaign, for those who are 
fighting against me are commanded by generals who have 
learned the art of war from me — pupils of mine. I must, 
therefore, allow them to gain a battle or two to prove that I 
am a good teacher. Besides, Jomini is not as guilty as 
Moreau and Bernadotte. He is a native of Switzerland, and 
his treason is aimed only at myself, and not at his country.” 

“ It seems such is Jomini’s excuse, too,” said Caulaincourt, 
“ for I have been told that he treated General Moreau with 
surprising coolness, and when the latter offered him his hand 
he did not take it, but withdrew with a chilling salutation. 
To the Emperor Alexander, who rebuked him for it, he 
replied that he would gladly welcome General Moreau any- 
where else than at the camp of the enemies of Moreau’s own 
country. For if he, Jomini, were a native of France, he 
would assuredly at this hour not be at the camp of the 
Emperor of Russia.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed the' emperor, “I am convinced that mis- 
erable Jomini imagines that he acted in a very noble and 
highly-dignified manner. A traitor who is ashamed of an- 
other traitor, and blushes for him! Ah, Caulaincourt, what 
a harrowing spectacle ! These acts of treachery will in the 
end make me unhappy ! * For does not Austria, too, wish to 
betray me? Has she not entered into an alliance with me, 
and does she not now wish to forsake me merely because she 

* Napoleon’s words.— Constant’s “MSmoires,” vol. v., p. 245. 


THE TRAITORS. 


323 


imagines that it would be more advantageous to her to side 
with my enemies? Austria is oscillating, and Metternich 
thinks he can preserve her equilibrium by placing Austrian 
promises as weights now into this, now into that scale. But 
the cabinet of Vienna deceives itself. Count Metternich 
wants his intrigues to pass for policy, while the whole object 
of Austria is to recover what she has lost.” * 

At this moment a carriage was heard to roll up to the 
palace and stop close under the windows of the cabinet. 
Maret, who, during the conversation between Napoleon and 
Caulain court, had retired into a window-niche, turned and 
looked out into the street. 

“Sire,” he then said, quickly, “Count Metternich has ar- 
rived, and already entered the palace.” 

“ Ah, he is really coming, then !” exclaimed Napoleon, with 
an air of scornful triumph ; “ he wishes me to tear the mask 
from his smirking face! Well, I shall comply with his 
wishes; I, at least, shall not dissemble, nor veil my real 
thoughts! Austria shall learn what I think of her!” 

The door opened, and Roustan entered again. “Sire,” he 
said, “his excellency Count Metternich, minister plenipoten- 
tiary of his majesty the Emperor of Austria, requests an audi- 
ence of your majesty.” 

Napoleon turned his head slowly toward the Dukes de 
Vicenza and Bassano. “Enter the cabinet of my private 
secretary, Fain,” he said. “ Leave the door ajar; I want you 
to hear all. Fain, if he pleases, may take notes of this in- 
terview, that he may afterward accurately testify to it. 
Go!” 

The two gentlemen bowed in silence and withdrew. The 
emperor gazed after them until they disappeared through the 
door of the cabinet; then turning toward Roustan, “ Let him 
come in,” he said, with a quick nod. 

A few minutes afterward the slender form, and the hand- 
some, florid, and smiling face of Count Clement de Metter- 
nich appeared on the threshold of the imperial cabinet. 

* Napoleon’s words. — Fain, “ Manuscrit de 1813,” vol. i. 


324 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

NAPOLEON AND METTEENICH. 

The emperor quickly met the Austrian minister, but, as if 
restraining himself, he stood in the middle of the room. 
Metternich approached, making a stiff, solemn bow, and 
quickly raised his head again, and turning his fine face, from 
which the smile did not vanish for a moment, toward the 
emperor, he waited in respectful silence for the latter to ad- 
dress him. Napoleon cast a menacing glance of hatred upon 
him; but Metternich did not seem to perceive his threat. 
He fixed his large blue eyes with perfect calmness on the face 
of the emperor, and awaited the commencement of the con- 
versation. 

The emperor felt that it was his province to break this 
silence. “Well, Metternich,” he said, “you are here, then! 
You are welcome! But answer me, without circumlocution, 
What do you want?” 

“ Sire, Austria wishes me to mediate a peace between the 
Prussian and Russian allies and your majesty.” 

“Ah, you want peace!” exclaimed Napoleon, sarcastically. 
“But why so late? We have lost nearly a month, and your 
mediation, from its long inactivity, has become almost hostile. 
It appears that it no longer suits your cabinet to guarantee 
the integrity of the French empire? Be it so; but why had 
you not the candor to make me acquainted with that deter- 
mination at an earlier period? It might have modified my 
plans — perhaps prevented me from continuing the war.” 

“ But your majesty ought graciously to remember that, for 
the present, there is no question of Austria and her wishes,” 
said Metternich, calmly; “that Austria is merely trying to 
mediate peace between your majesty and the sovereigns of 
Russia and Prussia. ” 

“Ah, that is what you call mediating,” exclaimed Napo- 
leon, sneeringly. “ When you allowed me to exhaust myself 
by new efforts, you doubtless little calculated on such rapid 
events as have ensued. I have gained, nevertheless, two 
battles; my enemies, severely weakened, were beginning to 
waken from their illusions, when suddenly you glided among 
us, and, speaking to me of an armistice and mediation, you 


NAPOLEON AND METTERNICH. 


325 


spoke to them of alliance and war. But for your pernicious 
intervention, peace would have been at this moment con- 
cluded between the allies and myself. You cannot deny that, 
since she has assumed the office of mediator, Austria has 
not only ceased to be my ally, but is becoming my enemy. 
You were about to declare yourself so when the battle of 
Lutzen intervened, and, by showing you the necessity of aug- 
menting your forces, made you desirous of gaining time. 
You have improved your opportunity, and now you have your 
two hundred thousand men ready, screened by the Bohemian 
hills; Sch war tzen berg commands them; at this very moment 
he is concentrating them in my rear; and it is because you 
conceive yourself in a condition to dictate the law, that you 
pay this visit.” 

“ Sire, dictate !” echoed Metternich, in a tone of dismay, 
but with a strange smile. 

“Yes, dictate!” repeated Napoleon, in a louder voice. 
“ But why do you wish to dictate to me alone? Am I, then, 
no longer the same man whom you defended yesterday? If 
you are an honest mediator, why do you not at least treat 
both sides alike? Say nothing in reply, for I see through 
you, Metternich: your cabinet wishes to profit by my embar- 
rassments, and augment them as much as possible, in order 
to recover a portion of your losses. The only difficulty you 
have is, whether you can gain your object without fighting, 
or throw yourselves boldly among the combatants; you do not 
know which to do, and possibly you come to seek light on 
the subject. Well, then, let us see! Let us treat! What 
do you wish?” 

“Sire,” said Metternich, with his smiling calmness, which 
had not yielded for an instant to the storm of Napoleon’s 
reproaches, “ Austria has no motives of self-interest. The 
sole advantage which the Emperor Francis wishes to derive 
from the present state of affairs is the influence which a spirit 
of moderation, and a respect for the rights of independent 
states, cannot fail to acquire from those who are animated 
with similar sentiments. Austria wishes not to conquer, but 
to preserve.” 

“Speak more clearly,” interrupted the emperor, impa- 
tiently; “but do not forget that I am a soldier.” 

“ Your majesty has taught Europe by upward of fifty bat- 
tles never to forget that,” said Metternich, with a pleasant 
nod. “ Austria wishes to wound your majesty neither as a 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


32G 

soldier nor as an emperor. She simply desires to establish a 
state of things which, by a wise distribution of power, may 
place the guaranty of peace under the protection of an associ- 
ation of independent states.” 

“Words, words!” cried Napoleon, impatiently. “Words 
having no other object than evasion, veiling your own de- 
signs! But I mean to go directly to the object. I only wish 
Austria to remain neutral, and I am ready to make sacrifices 
to her for it. My army is amply sufficient to bring back the 
Russians and Prussians to reason. All that I ask of you is to 
withdraw from the strife.” 

“Ah, sire,” said Metternich, eagerly, “why should your 
majesty enter singly into the strife? Why should you not 
double your forces? You may do so, sire! It depends only 
on you to add our forces to your own. Yes, matters have 
come to that point that we can no longer remain neutral; we 
must be either for or against you.” 

The emperor bent on him one of those piercing glances 
which the eagle bends upon the clouds to which he is soaring, 
seeking for the sun behind them. “ And which would be 
more desirable to you,” he asked, “to be for or against me?” 

“ Ah, sire, the Emperor Francis wishes for nothing more 
ardently than that the state of affairs should enable him to 
be for France, whose emperor is his son-in-law.” 

“But my father-in-law imposes conditions! Pray, tell me 
what they are!” exclaimed Napoleon, striding up and down 
the apartment, while Metternich walked by his side, respect- 
fully holding his hat in his hand. 

“ Tell me what these conditions are!” repeated Napoleon. 

“Sire, they are simply these,” said Metternich, in a bland 
tone. “ During the late decade the affairs of Europe havs 
been disturbed in a somewhat violent manner. Austria only 
wishes to have the equilibrium of Europe reestablished, and 
all the states occupy again the same position which they held 
prior to these convulsions. If your majesty consents to con- 
tribute your share to this restoration, Austria in return 
offers to France her lasting alliance and, in case the other 
powers should pursue a hostile course, her armed assistance. 
Austria wishes to make no conquests, to acquire no provinces, 
no titles — she is animated with the spirit of moderation. She 
demands only order, justice, and equality for all, and, more- 
over, only the restoration of such states as have been recog- 
nized for centuries as members of the general confederacy of 


NAPOLEON AND METTERNICH. 


327 


European states, the reconstruction of those thrones which 
have existed for ages, and whose rulers have a legitimate 
right to their sovereignty. I believe your majesty cannot 
deny that the Bourbons have a well-founded right to Spain, 
and that the Spaniards now, by the blood shed in their heroic 
struggle, have established their right to restore the throne to 
their legitimate rulers. You will have to admit, further, 
that no Christian sovereign, how powerful soever he may be, 
has a right to overthrow the Holy See of St. Peter, and to 
keep the vicegerent of God away from the capital which all 
Christendom has so long recognized as his own. You will 
have to admit, too, that both Lombardy and Illyria have long 
been possessions of Austria, and that Switzerland has been 
recognized as a confederation of republics by all the powers of 
Europe. If your majesty acknowledges all this, and con- 
sents to restore the state of things in accordance with those 
well-established rights, it only remains for us to find compen- 
sation for the three powers which have already allied them- 
selves against you. As for Prussia, I believe a portion of 
Saxony would be the most suitable indemnity for her. Rus- 
sia, I suppose, would be content if, after the dissolution of 
the duchy of Warsaw, Poland should once more fall to her 
share, and England demands only the possession of a few for- 
tified places and safe harbors on the shores of Holland.” 

The emperor uttered a cry of anger, and, suddenly halting, 
cast glances on Metternich which seemed to borrow their fire 
from the lightning. “ Are you through with your proposals, 
sir?” he asked, in a threatening tone. 

Metternich bowed. “Yes, sire.” 

“Well, then,” cried the emperor, stepping up to the min- 
ister, “ to all this I respond only by the question : How much 
money has England given you to play this part?” 

At this question, uttered in a menacing voice, Metternich 
turned pale, the smile passed from his lips, his brow darkened, 
and his eyes, usually so mild and pleasant, kindled with 
anger, and allowed the thoughts, generally concealed in the 
innermost recesses of the diplomatist’s heart, to burst forth 
for a moment, and betray hatred. 

“Ah,” cried Napoleon, in a triumphant tone, “I have at 
length torn the mask from your smiling features, and I see 
that a serpent is hidden under them as under roses. It would 
sting, but I know how to be on my guard ; I will never grant 
Austria the right to insult, dictate to, and humiliate me. 


328 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


I will compel her, as I have done so often, to prostrate lierself 
in the dust before me, and ask mercy and forbearance. Do 
you hear what I say? I will humiliate Austria, trampling her 
in the dust.” The emperor violently raised his clinched fist, 
and striking it downward struck Metternich’s hat, which the 
minister still held in his hand, and caused it to fall to the 
ground. 

The emperor paused and looked at Metternich, as if to 
request him to pick up the hat. But the latter did not make 
the slightest movement. His thoughts and his hatred had 
already retired into his bosom ; his brow was serene again, 
and his accustomed smile returned. He looked first at the 
hat, and then at the emperor, who followed his glances, and 
met them sullenly and defiantly. This little incident, how- 
ever, seemed to have dispelled Napoleon’s anger, or at least 
to have appeased the first stormy waves of the sea. When he 
spoke again his tone was milder, and his look less scorching, 
returning from time to time, as it were involuntarily, to the 
hat lying on the floor a few steps from him. He commenced 
pacing the apartment again with quick steps. Metternich 
followed him, only with somewhat slackened pace, and thus 
compelled the emperor to walk a little slower. 

“Now,” said Napoleon, loudly, “I know what 3*011 want! 
Not only Illyria, but the half of Italy, the return of the pope 
to Rome, Poland, and the abandonment of Spain, Holland, 
and Switzerland ! This is what you call the spirit of modera- 
tion! You are intent only on profiting by every chance; you 
alternately transport your alliance from one camp to the other, 
in order to be always a sharer in the spoil, and you speak to 
me of your respect for the rights of independent states! 
You would have Italy; Russia, Poland; Prussia, Saxony; and 
England, Holland and Belgium: in fine, peace is only a pre- 
text ; you are all intent on dismembering the French empire ! 
And Austria thinks she has only to declare herself, to crown 
such an enterprise! You pretend here, with a stroke of the 
pen, to make the ramparts of Dantzic, Custrin, Glogau, 
Magdeburg, Wesel, Mentz, Antwerp, Alessandria, Mantua, in 
fine, all the strong places of Europe, sink before you, of which I 
did not obtain possession but by my victorious arms! And 
I, obedient to your policy, am to evacuate Europe, of which I 
still hold the half ; recall my legio: .s across the Rhine, the 
Alps, and the Pyrenees; subscribe a treaty which would be 
nothing but a vast capitulation; and place myself at the 


NAPOLEON AND METTERNICH. 


329 


mercy of those of whom I am at this moment the conqueror ! 
It is when my standards float at the mouths of the Vistula, 
and on the banks of the Oder ; when my army is at the gates 
of Berlin, and Breslau ; when I am at the head of three hun- 
dred thousand men, that Austria, without drawing a sword, 
expects to make me subscribe such conditions! This is an 
insult, and it is my father-in-law that has matured such a 
project; it is he that sends you on such a mission!” * 

While thus speaking, the emperor was still walking, and 
Metternich by his side. Whenever they passed the hat lying 
on the floor, Napoleon cast a quick side-glance on Metternich, 
who appeared to take no notice of the hat, and it seemed 
entirely accidental that he slightly wheeled aside, and thus 
succeeded in passing without touching it. 

“You,” cried Napoleon, in a thundering voice, “have 
taken upon yourself the mission of insulting me, and you 
think I will quietly submit?” 

“Sire,” said Metternich, with his imperturbable calmness, 
“ I believe you have already punished me for it!” 

Now for the first time his eyes turned significantly toward 
his hat, and then fixed themselves steadfastly on the emperor. 
They did not dare to threaten, but they defied Napoleon. 
They said: “You have insulted me by knocking my hat out 
of my hand. I will not pick it up, but demand satisfaction.” 

Possibly Napoleon understood this language, for a smile, 
full of sarcasm and contempt, played around his lips, and he 
slightly shrugged his shoulders. 

“ I beg you to consider, besides,” added Metternich, calmly, 
“ that I am here only because my sovereign has commissioned 
and ordered me to repair to you, and that, as a faithful ser- 
vant, I have repeated only what the emperor commanded me. ” 

“Ah,” cried Napoleon, with a harsh laugh, “you wish to 
make me believe that you are but the emperor’s echo? Well, 
I will suppose it to be true. Then go and tell your master 
that I henceforth decline his mediation, and that nothing 
would exasperate me more than the idea that Austria, in 
return for her crimes and her breach of faith, should reap the 
best fruits and become the pacificator of Europe. Ask the 
Emperor Francis in what position he intends to place me in 
regard to my son? Tell him he is entirely mistaken if he 
believes a disgraced throne can fie a refuge in France for his 

♦This whole speech contains only Napoleon’s words.— Vide Fain, “Manuscrit de 
1813,” vol. i. 


22 


330 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


daughter and grandson.* That is my reply to the Emperor 
Francis. Go!” 

Metternich bowed; considering the emperor’s words equiv- 
alent to his dismissal, he turned and crossed the room. His 
way led him past his hat; he took no notice of it, but quietly 
walked on toward the door. 

“He does not wish to take his hat,” thought Napoleon. 

Metternich reached the door, turned again to the emperor, 
and made him a last reverential bow. 

“One word more, Count Metternich!” cried Napoleon. 
“ Come, I have still something to say to you.” 

Metternich blandly nodded assent and returned. Napoleon 
commenced again pacing the room, with Metternich by his 
side. The emperor now directed his steps in such a manner 
that he himself was near the hat. “ I wish to prove to you, 
Metternich,” said Napoleon, “that I have seen through you, 
and that the true reason of your coming is well known to me. 
You did not for an instant believe that I could accept these 
proposals, which would dishonor and annihilate me ; you know 
me too well for that ; but they were only to be the pretext of 
the real wish that brought you hither. To be able to ally 
yourself in a seemingly loyal manner with my enemies, you 
want to get rid of the alliance which is still connecting 
Austria with France. In direct contradiction to all that 
Austria has hitherto said to me, you wish to annul the treaty 
of Paris. Admit that this is the case.” 

The emperor, with his eyes fixed steadfastly upon Metter- 
nich, crossed the apartment. Suddenly seeming to find an 
obstacle in his way, he turned his eyes toward the floor. It 
was Metternich’s hat, which his foot had already touched. 
As if merely to remove the obstruction, he stooped, took up the 
hat, and threw it with an indifferent and careless motion on 
a chair near the door. He then quietly passed on and fixed 
his eyes again upon Metternich. f “ Well, reply to me- — deny 
it if you can!” 

“Sire,” said Metternich, in a bland, insinuating voice, “I 
had already the honor of telling you that matters have come 
to that point that we can no longer remain neutral, but that 
we can take up arms for your majesty, only if you consent to 
grant us all that I have laid before you, and — ” 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide Fain, “Manuscrit de 1813,” vol. i. 

tVide “ Memoires de la Duchesse d'Abrantes,” vol. xvi., p. 173. There is another 
version of this scene, according to which it was not Metternich’s, but the emperor's 
hat that fell to the floor. — Vide Hormayr, “ Lebensbilder,” vol. iii. , p. 480. 


NAPOLEON AND METTERNICH. 


331 


“No,” interrupted Napoleon, proudly, “do not repeat the 
insult ! The interview is ended. I know what you desire, 
and I do not intend to disappoint you ! I will not be a dead 
weight upon my friends, nor raise the slightest objection to 
the abandonment of the treaty that allies me with Austria, 
if such be the wish of the Emperor Francis. I shall to- 
morrow repeat this to you in writing and in due form. Now 
we are through — farewell!” He turned his back on Count 
Metternich, with a quick nod, and continued his way across 
the room. 

Metternich cast a last smiling glance on him; went with 
rapid, soft steps to the chair, took his hat which the emperor 
had picked up, hastened across the room, and went out with- 
out a word or a bow. 

When Napoleon heard him close the door, “He is gone,” 
he murmured, “ the alliance is broken. I have now no ally 
but myself!” For a moment he looked melancholy, and then 
starting glanced at the small door leading into the cabinet of 
Baron Fain, his private secretary. He remembered that his 
two dukes were there, and that they could not only hear but 
see all. Composing his agitated face, he shouted in a merry 
voice, “ Caulaincourt and Maret, come in!” 

The door opened immediately; the Dukes de Bassano and 
Vicenza appeared on the threshold and reentered the room. 
“ Well, have you heard every thing?” asked Napoleon. 

“Yes, sire.” 

“ And Fain? has he taken notes?” 

“ Sire, he has written down every thing as far as it was pos- 
sible, considering the rapidity of the conversation.”* 

“Ah, I shall read it afterward,” said the emperor; “it is 
always good to know in what manner we shall be recognized 
by posterity. Now, gentlemen, since you have heard all, you 
understand that war is unavoidable, and that Austria will 
side with my enemies.” 

“ Sire, we have heard it, and it has filled our souls with 
uneasiness and anxiety,” said Maret. 

“ Perhaps, nevertheless, a compromise may still be possible,” 
exclaimed Caulaincourt. “ The armistice has not yet expired, 
and, in accordance with the orders of your majesty, I have 
already made the necessary overtures for prolonging it to the 
15th of August.” 

* Fain, “ Memoires de 1813.” Fain gives a full account of this interview, and I 
have strictly followed his narrative. 


332 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“It will be prolonged, you may depend upon it,” said 
Napoleon, “for the allies need time for completing their 
preparations. We shall have an armistice to that time, but 
then war will break out anew, and it will be terrible. I shall 
not indeed wage it as emperor, but as General Bonaparte.” * 
“Oh, sire,” sighed Maret, “the whole world is longing for 
peace, and France, too, entertains no more ardent wish. I 
have received many unmistakable intimations in regard to it. 
Paris is not only hoping for peace, but expecting it confi- 
dently, after the two victories by which your majesty has 
humiliated your enemies.” 

“ Paris is very badly informed if she thinks peace to depend 
upon me,” replied Napoleon, indignantly. “You see how 
greedily Austria augments the demands of my enemies, by 
placing herself at their head. We were always obliged to 
conquer peace. Very well, we will conquer it again. The 
armistice will be prolonged to the 15th of August — time 
enough to complete, on our side, all necessary preparations, 
and decree a new conscription. But then, after the armistice, 
war — a decisive, bloody war — a war that will lead to an hon- 
orable peace ! Believe me, he who has always dictated peace 
cannot submit to it with impunity. Courage, therefore! 
France wants peace, and so do I, but my cannon shall dictate 
the terms, and my sword write them!” f 

* Napoleon’s words. 

t Napoleon’s words.— Vide “ Mfimoires du Due de Rovigo,” vol. ii. 


DELIVERANCE OF GERMANY. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

ON THE KATZBACH. 

The armistice expired on the 15th of August, and hos- 
tilities were resumed. The state of affairs, however, was es- 
sentially different from what it was at the commencement of 
the armistice; for, at that time, Napoleon had just obtained 
two victories. During the armistice, the allies had won an 
important victory over him ; they had gained Austria over to 
their side, and now, at the renewal of hostilities, Austria 
reenforced the allies with two hundred thousand men. For 
nearly fourteen years Napoleon was invariably the more 
powerful enemy, not only on account of his military genius, 
but of the numerical strength and excellent organization of 
his forces. 

For the first time the enemy opposed him with superior 
forces, and this vast host struggled, moreover, with the 
utmost enthusiasm for the deliverance of the fatherland — 
with the energy of hatred and wrath against him who had 
so long enslaved and oppressed it. But Napoleon still pos- 
sessed his grand military genius. Soon after the expiration 
of the armistice, he gained a new victory over the allies, that 
of Dresden;* and in this battle Moreau, the French general, 
who was fighting against his own countrymen, was struck by 
a French ball, which caused his death in a few days. But 
the allies took their revenge for the defeat of Dresden in the 
great victory of Culm, where they, also after a two days’ bat- 
tle, achieved a brilliant triumph over General Vandamme. 

General Blucher and his Silesian army had not participated 
in these battles. At the time when the Russians, the Aus- 
trians, and a part of the Prussians, were fighting and yielding 

* The battle of Dresden lasted two days, the 26th and 27th of August. Moreau 
died on the 2d of September, and the battle of Culm was fought on the 29th and 30th 
of August. 


334 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


at Dresden, Blucher was at length to attain his object, and 
meet the enemy in a pitched battle. Since the 20th ' of 
August he stood near Jauer with his army, which was ninety 
thousand strong, composed of Russians and Prussians, and 
awaited nothing more ardently than the approach of the 
enemy, in order to fight a general battle. Fortune seemed 
to favor his wishes, for Napoleon himself was advancing. On 
the 21st of August the scouts reported the approach of the 
hostile columns, who had crossed the Bober at Lowenberg. 
Blucher’s eyes lit up with delight; he stroked his white mus- 
tache, and said: “We shall have a fight! To-morrow we 
meet the French!” 

But the morning of the 22d of August dawned, and the 
eyes of the general were still unable to descry the advancing 
enemy. Yet his scouts reported that the French army was 
advancing, and that only a detachment had set out for Dres- 
den. “Then Bonaparte has left with this detachment,” 
grumbled Blucher; “for if he were still with them, the 
French would not creep along like snails.” 

At length, on the 26th of August, the general’s wishes 
seemed to be near fulfilment. The French were advancing. 
They approached the banks of the Katzbach, to the other 
side of which the Silesian army was moving. “We shall 
have a fight!” shouted General Blucher, exultingly; “the 
good God will have mercy on me after all, and treat me to a 
good breakfast! I have been hungering for the French so 
long, that I really thought I should die of starvation. I shall 
furnish the roast; and, that there may be something to drink, 
the rain is pouring down from heaven as though all the little 
angels on high were weeping for joy because they are to have 
-the pleasure of seeing old Blucher at work ! — Glorious hosts 
in heaven!” added Blucher, casting a glance at the leaden 
sky, “ now do me only the favor to put an end to your weep- 
ing, and do not give us too much of a good thing. Pray re- 
member that you put under water not only the enemy, but 
ourselves, your friends. Do not soften the soil too much, 
else not only the French will stick in the mud, but ourselves, 
your chosen lifeguard!” 

But “ the little angels on high ” poured down their “ tears 
of joy ” in incessant torrents from early dawn. It was one of 
those continuous rains from a dull gray sky, giving little hope 
of fine weather for many days. The soil was softened, the 
mountain-torrents swollen, and vast masses of water foamed 


ON THE KATZBACH. 


335 


into the Katzbach, so that this peaceful little stream seemed 
a furious river. A violent norther was blowing, and driving 
the rain into the faces of the soldiers, drenching their uni- 
forms, penetrating the muskets, and moistening the powder. 

“Well, if the boys cannot shoot to-day, they will have to 
club their muskets,” said Blucher, cheerfully, when he and 
his suite rode out of Bollwitzhof, his headquarters, to recon- 
noitre the position of the French. 

But the wind and rain rendered a reconnoissance a matter 
of impossibility. The enemy was nowhere to be seen, but 
still the dull noise of rumbling cannon and trotting horses 
was heard at a distance, and the patrols reported that they 
had seen the foe approaching the Katzbach in heavy columns ; 
not, however, on the other bank, but on this side. At this 
moment General Gneisenau came up at a full gallop. He 
had gone out toward the pickets to ■ reconnoitre, and came 
back to report that the French were forming in line of battle 
at a short distance on the plateau near Eichholz, and that 
they had crossed to the right side of the Katzbach. 

“Bight or left,” said Blucher, “it is all the same to me, 
provided we have them. If they have already crossed the 
river, well then they know the road, and will be better able 
to find their way back. Let us allow them to cross, until 
there are enough of them on this side.” Then, turning with 
noble dignity toward his officers, he added, in an entirely 
changed, grave, and measured tone : “ Gentlemen, the battle 
will commence in a few hours. Promptness and good order 
are of vital importance now. — The orderlies!” 

The orderlies hastened to him. “ You will ride to General 
York, who is occupying the plateau of Eichholz, and tell him 
to allow as many French as he thinks he can beat to march 
up the ascent, and then he is to charge them!” shouted 
Blucher to the first orderly, and, while he sped away at a 
furious gallop, the general turned to the second. “ You will 
hasten to General von Sacken and tell him that it is time for 
attacking the French! — And we, gentlemen,” he added, ad- 
dressing his staff, “ will place ourselves at the head of our 
troops. The soldiers must have their meals cooked by two 
o’clock ; all the columns will then commence moving. When 
the enemy falls back, I expect, above all, the cavalry to do 
their duty, and to act with great courage. The foe must find 
out, that on retreating he cannot get out of our hands unhurt. 
And now, forward ! The battle begins at two o’clock !” He 


336 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


spurred his horse, and galloped again toward the troops. 
With a serene face and joyful eyes he rode along the front. 
“Boys,” he shouted, “cook your dinners quickly, do not 
burn your mouths, and do not eat your soup too hot; but 
when you have eaten it, then it is time for cooking a whip- 
ping soup for the French.” 

“ Yes, Father Blucher, we will cook it for them!” shouted 
the soldiers. 

“ I am afraid that soup won’t agree with the French,” said 
Blucher, with a humorous wink. “ Blue-bean soup is hard 
to digest. But they will have to swallow it, whether they 
like it or not, won’t they?” 

“Yes, they will!” laughed the soldiers; and Blucher gal- 
loped over to the other regiments, to fire their hearts by 
similar greetings. 

It was two o’clock! “Boys, the fun will commence now!” 
shouted Blucher’s powerful voice. “ Now I have French 
soldiers enough on this side of the river. Forward !” 

Forward they went, at a double-quick, directly at the 
French. The cannon boomed, the musketry rattled ; but the 
rain soon silenced the latter. 

“Boys,” shouted Major von Othegraven to his battalion of 
the Brandenburg regiment, “if we cannot shoot them, we 
can club them!” And amid loud cheers the soldiers turned 
their muskets, and struck their enemies with the butts. A 
terrible hand-to-hand struggle ensued — howls of pain, dread- 
ful abuse and imprecations burst from both sides; but at 
length they ceased on this part of the field : the Brandenburg 
soldiers had killed a whole French battalion with the stocks 
of their muskets ! * 

The battle raged on amid the terrible storm beating on the 
combatants. The wind blew violently, and the rain descended 
in torrents. The men sank ankle-deep in the softened soil, 
but “Forward!” sounded the battle-cry, and the soldiers left 
their shoes in the mud, rushing in their socks or bare-footed 
on the enemy, who fought with lion-hearted courage, here 
receding and there advancing. 

“ Father Blucher, we are doing well to-day!” shouted the 
soldiers to their chieftain, galloping up to the infantry. 

“Yes, we are doing well,” cried Blucher; “but wait, boys 
— we shall do still better!” 

At this moment the artillery boomed from the other side. 

*Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 304. 


ON THE KATZBACH. 


337 


Two officers galloped up to Blucher. One was the orderly he 
had sent to General von Sacken. 

“What reply did General yon Sacken make?” shouted 
Blucher. 

“ ‘Reply to the general, “ Hurrah!” ’ * was all he said, your 
excellency.” 

“A splendid comrade!” cried Blucher, merrily. 

“ General,” said the second officer, in an undertone, “I 
beg leave to make a communication in private.” 

“ In private? No communications will be made in private 
to-day,” replied Blucher, shaking his head; “my staff-officers 
must hear every thing.” And he beckoned to his aides and 
officers to come closer to him. 

“ Your excellency then commands me to utter aloud what 
I have to say?” 

“Well, speak directly, and, if you like, so loudly that the 
French will hear, too!” 

“ Well, then, general, I have to tell you that no time is to 
be lost, and that we must hasten to advance, for the Emperor 
Napoleon himself is coming up at the head of his troops ; he 
is already in the rear of your excellency.” 

“Ah,” inquired Blucher, with perfect composure, “is the 
Emperor Napoleon in my rear? Well, I am glad of it; then 
he is able to do me a great favor.” He turned his eyes again 
toward the battle array with a defiant smile, as if confident of 
final victory. 

The victory was not decided, although the murderous 
struggle had lasted already an hour. Marshal Macdonald 
constantly moved up fresh troops, and Blucher had sufficient 
reserves to meet them. Here the Prussians gave way, and 
there the French. From the right wing of the Prussian army 
orderlies informed General Blucher that General York, with 
his troops, had repulsed the enemy, and was advancing vic- 
toriously; messengers hastened to him from the left wing, and 
told him that General Langeron was about to fall back, that 
the Prussian cavalry were retreating, and the French cavalry 
approaching in dense masses, and that the Prussian batteries 
were in imminent danger of falling into the hands of the 
enemy. 

Blucher uttered an oath — a single savage oath; then he 
turned his head aside and shouted, “Hennemann! pipe- 
master!” 


*Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 201. 


338 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Christian Hennemann galloped up immediately. He was 
in full hussar-uniform, but did not belong to the ranks; he 
was in the suite of his general, and had to be constantly near 
him. On the pommel of his saddle was a long iron box, and 
in his mouth a short clay pipe. “ General, here I am !” 

“ Give me a short pipe, for now we charge the enemy!” 

Hennemann took the pipe from his mouth, handed it to 
the general, and said, with the utmost equanimity : “ Here it 
is ! It has been burning some time already, and I began to 
think the general had entirely forgotten the pipe and myself.” 

Bluclier put the pipe into his mouth. At this moment a 
Brandenburg regiment of lancers galloped up, headed by 
Major von Katzeler, Blucher’s former adjutant. “We are 
going to assist our men!” shouted Katzeler, saluting the gen- 
eral with his sword. 

“We are moving to the relief of our comrades!” cried a 
captain of hussars, thundering up at the head of his regiment. 

“ Very well !” said Blucher. “ God bless me. I must go 
with them ! I can stand it no longer!” Drawing his sword, 
he galloped with the courage and ardor of a youth to the head 
of the column of hussars, who received him with deafening 
cheers. The bugles sounded, and forward sped Blucher at an 
impetuous gallop. 

Suddenly some one shouted by his side: “General! gen- 
eral!” It was the pipe-master. Blucher, looking at him 
with eyes flashing with anger, said : “ Begone ! Ride to the 
rear!” 

“God forbid!” said Hennemann, composedly; “here is my 
place; did not the general order me always to remain near 
him and hold a short pipe in readiness? Well, I am near, 
and the pipe is ready.” 

“ I do not want it now, Christian ; we are about to charge 
the enemy. To the rear, pipe-master!” 

“ I cannot think of it, general ; no one is at liberty to desert 
his post, as you told me yourself,” cried Hennemann. “I 
am at my post, and will not allow myself to be driven from 
it. You will soon enough need me.” 

“Forward!” cried the general. And amid loud cheers the 
hussars rushed upon the enemy, Blucher fighting at their 
head, brandishing his sword with the utmost delight, forcing 
back the enemy, and wresting from him the advantages he 
had already gained. The French being driven back, Blucher 
suddenly commanded a halt. 


BLUCHER AS A WRITER. 


339 


“Boys!” he shouted, in a clarion voice, “this is a butchery 
to-day ; let us stop a moment, take a drink, and fill our pipes. 

• — Pipe-master, my pipe!” 

“Did I not say that you would soon need me?” asked Hen- 
nemann, in a triumphant voice. “ Here is your pipe, general !” 

When the horses had taken breath, and the bold hussars a 
drink, and filled their pipes, the general’s voice was again 
heard: “ Forward in God’s name! — we shall soon be done with 
the French !” 

Toward dusk the battle was decided. In wild disorder fled 
the enemy, delayed by the softened soil, blinded by the rain, 
and obstructed by the Katzbach and the Neisse, with their 
roaring waters swelling every moment. In hot pursuit was 
the exultant victor, thundering with his cannon, and hurling 
death into the ranks of the fugitives. Field-pieces were 
planted on the banks of those streams, and when the French 
approached, they were greeted with fearful volleys. Turning 
in dismay, flashing swords and bayonets menaced them. Piles 
of dead were lying on the banks of the Katzbach; thousands 
of corpses were floating down the foaming waters, showing to 
Silesia the bloody trophies of battle, and that Blucher had at 
length taken revenge upon his adversary. At seven o’clock 
in the evening all was still. On all sides the French had fled. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

BLUCHER AS A WRITER. 

Darkness came, and the rain continued. The “ dear little 
angels in heaven,” who, as Blucher said in the morning, wept 
for joy at the prospect of a fight, were now perhaps shedding 
tears of grief at the many thousands lying on the battle-field 
with gaping wounds, and whose last sighs were borne away 
on the stormy wind of the night. 

Blucher rode across the field toward his headquarters; no 
one was by his side but his friend, General Gneisenau, and, 
at some distance behind them, Christian Hennemann, hold- 
ing a burning pipe in his mouth. Absorbed in deep reflec- 
tions, they were riding along the dreadful road strewed with 
dead and wounded soldiers, and through pools of blood. Even 
Blucher felt exhausted after the day’s work ; his joy was sup- 
pressed by the incessant rain that had drenched his clothes, 


340 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


and by the groans of the dying, which rent his ears and filled 
his soul with compassion. But soon overcoming his sadness, 
he turned toward Gneisenau. “Well,” he said, “this battle 
we have gained, and all the world will have to admit it; now 
let us think what we may put into our bulletin to tell the 
people hotv we have gained it. For ten years past Bonaparte 
has issued such high-sounding accounts of his victories that 
I always felt in my anger as though my heart were a bomb- 
shell ready to burst. Well, this time, let us also draw up 
such a bulletin of victory, and show that we have learned 
something. Let us proclaim that we have conquered, and 
draw up the document as soon as we arrive at Brechtelshof . ” 

“General, you will have to decide the name of the battle,” 
said Gneisenau. “How is it to be known in history?” 

“Yes, that is true,” said Blucher, thoughtfully, “it must 
have a name. Well, propose one, Gneisenau!” 

“ We might call it the battle of Brechtelshof, because the 
headquarters of our brave chieftain, our Father Blucher, are 
at that place,” said Gneisenau, in a mild tone. 

“No, do not mix me up with the matter,” said Blucher, 
hastily; “the good God has vouchsafed us a victory, let us 
humbly thank Him for it, and not grow overbearing. — Wait, 

I have it now! We shall call it, in honor of General von 
Sacken, the battle of the Katzbach; for, by Sacken’s vigorous 
cannonade from Eichholz, on the Katzbach, and with the as- 
sistance of his brave cavalry, that drove the enemy into the 
river, we gained the victory, and the battle ought to have 
that name. ‘The battle of the Katzbach!’ — Well, here are 
our quarters!” 

“Now, general, you must rest,” said Gneisenau, with the 
tenderness of a son. “ You must change your dress, take 
food, and repose on your laurels, though there is but a straw 
mattress for you.” 

Blucher shook his head. “ My clothes will dry quickest if 
I keep them on my body,” he said, “and I must do so, for 
we have still a great many things to attend to ; we must in- 
form the king of our victory, take care of our wounded, 
arrange for the pursuit of the enemy ; and, finally, write the 
bulletins of victory. We may take refreshment, but I do not 
care for laurels with it — laurels are bitter. But let us take a 
drink, and smoke a pipe. — Pipe-master!” 

Fifteen minutes afterward, General Blucher entered with 
Gneisenau the small chamber called his headquarters ; ail the 


BLUCHER AS A WRITER. 


341 


other rooms were filled with the wounded prior to the gen- 
eral’s arrival at Brechtelshof. Pains had been taken to render 
this chamber as cosy and comfortable as possible, and, when 
Blucher entered, he was gratified in seeing a straw mattress 
near the wall, and on the table (beside a flickering tallow- 
candle placed in a bottle) a flask of wine, with a few glasses, 
and near it a large inkstand and several sheets of paper. 

“Well,” cried Blucher, cheerfully, “let us divide frater- 
nally, Gneisenau; I will take the wine, and you the ink. 
But, first, I will give you a glass, and in return you will after- 
ward let me have a drop of ink.” Sitting down on one of 
the wooden stools, he quickly filled two glasses to the brim. 
“Gneisenau,” he said, solemnly, “let us drink this in honor 
of those who are lying on the battle-field, and who have died 
like brave men! May God bid them welcome, and be a mer- 
ciful Judge to them! Let us drink also in commemoration 
of Queen Louisa and Scharnhorst, who both doubtless looked 
down upon us from heaven to-day, and assisted us in achiev- 
ing a victory. To them I am indebted for all I am. But 
for the angelic face of the queen the calamity of the accursed 
year 1807 would have driven me to despair and death ; and 
but for Scharnhorst I should never have been appointed gen- 
eral-in-chief. Why, they all considered me a bombastic old 
dotard of big words and small deeds; but Scharnhorst de- 
fended me before the king and the emperor, and what I am 
now I am through him, because he, the noblest of men, be- 
lieved in me. And I will not give the lie to his faith, I will 
still accomplish glorious things — to-day’s work is only a be- 
ginning.” 

“ But what you have done to-day is something glorious, 
your excellency,” said Gneisenau. “That we have gained 
the battle, thanks to your generalship and the enthusiasm 
of the troops, is not the greatest advantage. A more im- 
portant one is, that the Silesian army has been able to prove 
what it is, and what a chieftain is at its head. Now, all those 
will be silenced who constantly mistrusted and suspected us; 
who tried to sow the seeds of discord between the Silesian 
army and the headquarters of the allies; and who were intent 
on preventing your excellency from entering upon an inde- 
pendent and energetic course of action.” 

“It is true, they call me a mad hussar,” said Blucher, 
shrugging his shoulders; “and Bonaparte, as I read some- 
where the other day, calls me even a drunken hussar. Well, 


342 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


no matter! let them say what they please. And, moreover, 
they are all, to some extent, justified in making such asser- 
tions; fori cannot deny that the years of waiting, during 
which I was obliged to swallow my grief, really made me a 
little mad, and with sobriety I never intend to meet Bona- 
parte ; but, for all that, it is unnecessary for me to be drunk 
with wine. I am still intoxicated with joy that we have at 
length been allowed to attack the French, and God grant that 
I may never awaken from this intoxication ! Well, Gneise- 
nau, now let us go to work! — you with the ink, and I with 
the wine! Draw up the necessary instructions for the pursuit 
of the enemy, and, in the mean time, I will consider what I 
have to write.” 

Gneisenau took the pen, and wrote; Blucher the glass, and 
drank. Half an hour passed in silence; Gneisenau then laid 
down his pen, for he had finished the instructions ; and Blucher 
pushed the glass aside, for the bottle was empty. 

“I beg leave now to read the instructions to your excel- 
lency,” said Gneisenau. 

“No,” said Blucher, “not now! I have myself gathered 
some thoughts, and if I defer writing them down, they will 
fly away like young swallows. Such ideas, that are to be 
written down, are not accustomed to have their nest in my 
head, and for this reason I will let them out immediately. I 
will write to the king and to the city of Breslau, informing 
him that we have gained the battle, and the city of Breslau that 
it ought to do something for my wounded. Give me the pen; 
I shall not be long about it.” With extraordinary rapidity 
he wrote words of such a size that it would have been easy 
even for a short-sighted person to read them at a distance; 
and, although they were drawn across the paper very irreg- 
ularly, the general always took pains to have broad intervals 
between the lines, that there might be no probability of leav- 
ing them illegible. A sheet was soon filled; Blucher fixed 
his signature, and contemplated the paper for a moment. 
Half an hour afterward two other sheets, filled with strange 
and uncouth characters, lay before the old general, and he 
cast the pen aside with a sigh. “ It is abominable work to 
write letters,” he said; “I cannot comprehend why you, 
Gneisenau, who are so good a soldier, at the same time know 
so well how to wield the pen. It is not my forte, although I 
had a notion once to be a savant , and really become a sort of 
writer. In those calamitous days, subsequent to 1807, de- 


BLUCHER AS A WRITER. 


343 


spair and ennui sought for some relief to my mind, and made 
me write a book, and I believe a good one.” 

“A book?” asked Gneisenau, in amazement. “And yon 
had it printed, your excellency?” 

“ Not I ; I was no such fool as to do that. The critics and 
newspaper editors, who talk about every thing, and know 
nothing, would have pounced upon my book, and severely 
censured it. No, my dear Gneisenau, one must not cast 
pearls before swine. I keep my book in my desk, and show 
it only to those whom I particularly esteem. When we re- 
turn home from the campaign I will let you read it ; I know 
it will please you, and you will learn something. My work 
is called ‘ Observations on the Instruction and Tactics of 
Cavalry .’ A splendid title, is it not? Well, you may believe 
me, there is a great deal in it, and many a one would be glad 
of having written it.* Let us say no more about it. Here 
are my two dispatches; there is the letter to the king, and 
here is my letter to the city of Breslau, and — you must do 
me a favor, Gneisenau. You must read what I have written, 
and if I have made any blunders in orthography or grammar, 
be so kind as to correct them.” 

“But, your excellency,” said Gneisenau, “no one can ex- 
press himsef so vigorously as you, and no one knows how to 
put the right word in the right place as quickly as you do.” 

“Yes, as to the words, you are right. But the grammar! 
there’s the rub. Men are so foolish as to refuse speaking as 
they please, but render life even more burdensome by all sorts 
of grammatical rules. I have never in my whole life paid any 
attention to them, but have spoken my mind freely and fear- 
lessly. But as people really do consider him a blockhead who 
does not talk as they do, let us humor them, and please cor- 
rect my mistakes; but, pray, do so in such a manner that it 
will not be found out.” He handed Gneisenau the pen, and 
pushed the two letters toward him. “ Correct what I have 
written,” he said; “in the mean time I will read what you 
have written.” 

“ And pray be so kind as to correct it, too, your excellency,” 
begged Gneisenau, “for possibly I may have made mistakes 
weighing heavier than mere infractions of grammatical rules, 
and I may not have succeeded in rendering your instructions 
in words as concise and distinct as you gave them to me.” 

*Blucher was proud of this work, the only one he ever wrote, and always referred 
to it in terms of great satisfaction.— Vide Vamhagen von Ensej “ Life of Prince 
Blucher of Wahlstatt,” p. 530. 


344 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Well, we shall see,” exclaimed Blucher, smiling, and tak- 
ing up the paper. 

“Very good,” he said, after reading it through, “every 
thing is done just as I wished it, and if all our commanders 
act in accordance with these instructions, we shall give the 
enemy no time for taking a position anywhere, but completely 
disperse his forces without being compelled to fight another 
battle.” 

“ And when the city of Breslau reads this noble and affect- 
ing plea for your wounded,” said Gneisenau, “they will he 
nursed in the most careful manner, and our able-bodied sol- 
diers will receive wagon-loads of food and refreshments. And 
when the king reads this dispatch, announcing our victory in 
language so modest and unassuming, his heart will feel satis- 
faction, and he will rejoice equally over the victory and the 
general to whom he is indebted for it.” 

“ Have you corrected the grammatical blunders?” 

“ I have, your excellency ; I have erased them so cautiously 
that no one can see that any thing has been corrected.” 

“Well, then, be so kind as to dispatch a courier.” 

“But, your excellency,” said Gneisenau, “shall the courier 
take only these two dispatches? Have you forgotten that you 
promised Madame von Blucher to write to her after every bat- 
tle, whether victorious or not, and that I solemnly pledged her 
my word to remind your excellency of it?” 

“Well, it is unnecessary to remind me,” cried Blucher, 
taking up the letter he had first written. “ Here is my letter 
to Amelia. She is a faithful wife, and I surely owed it to her 
to tell her first that the Lord has been kind and gracious 
enough toward me to let me gain the battle. But you need 
not correct it. My Amelia will not blame me for my gram- 
matical blunders, and to her I freely speak my mind.” 

“ Did you inform your wife, too, that you drew your sword 
yourself, and rushed into the thickest of the fray?” 

“ I shall take good care not to tell her any thing of the kind,” 
exclaimed Blucher. “ As far as that is concerned, I did not 
speak my mind to her. It is true I had promised my dear 
wife to be what she calls sensible, and only to command and 
play the distinguished general who merely looks on while 
others do the fighting. But it would not do — you must admit, 
Gneisenau, it would not do; I could not stand still like a 
scarecrow, while my old adjutant, Katzeler, was charging 
with the hussars; I had to go with them, if it cost my life. 


THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 


345 


You will do me the favor, however, not to betray it to 
Amelia.” 

“ Even though I should be silent, your excellency, your 
wife would hear of it.” 

“You believe Hennemann will tell her?” asked Blucher, 
almost in dismay. “ Yes, it is true, she has ordered the pipe- 
master not to lose sight of me in battle, and always to remain 
near me with the pipe. Well, the fellow has kept his word; 
hut he will now also fulfil what he promised my wife, and tell 
her every thing. Yes, the pipe-master will tell her that I was 
in the charge of the light cavalry.” 

“Yes,” exclaimed Gneisenau, smiling, “he will betray to 
your wife and to history that Blucher fought and charged at 
the battle of the Katzbach like a young man of twenty. 
But for the pipe-master history might not know it at all.” 

“Gneisenau, you are decidedly too sharp,” cried Blucher, 
stroking his mustache. “ Well, please forward the dispatches, 
and then let us try to sleep a little. We must invigorate our- 
selves, for we shall have plenty to do to-morrow. ‘Forward, 
always forward!’ until Bonaparte is hurled from his throne; 
and hurled from it he will be! Yes, as sure as there is a 
God in heaven!” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 

On the morning of the 10th of October, Napoleon took 
leave of the King and Queen of Saxony, after delivering at 
Eilenburg, whither he had repaired with the royal family of 
Saxony, a solemn and enthusiastic address to the corps which 
his faithful ally, King Frederick Augustus, had added to his 
army, and which was to fight jointly with the French against 
his enemies. He then entered the carriage and rode to Duben, 
followed by his staff, the whole park of artillery, and all the 
equipages. Gloomy and taciturn, the emperor, on his arrival 
at the palace of Duben, retired into his apartments and spread 
out the maps, on which colored pins marked the various 
positions of the allies and his own army. “ They are three to 
one against me,” he murmured, bending over the maps and 
contemplating the pins. “ Were none but determined and 
energetic generals, like Blucher, at their head, my defeat 
would be certain. They would then hem me in, bring on a 
28 


346 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


decisive battle, and their overwhelming masses would crush 
me and my army. Fortunately, there is no real harmony 
among the allies; they will scatter their forces, post them 
here and there, and in the mean time I shall march to Berlin, 
take the city, repose there, and, with renewed strength, at- 
tack them one after another. Ah, I shall succeed in defeat- 
ing them, I — ” 

There was a low knock at the door, and Constant, his valet 
de chambre, entered the room. “Sire,” he said, “Marshal 
Marmont and the gentlemen of the staff are in the reception- 
room, and request your majesty graciously to grant them an 
audience.” 

An expression of surprise overspread the emperor’s face, and 
for an instant he seemed to hesitate; but gently nodding he 
said, calmly: “ Open the door. I grant them the audience.” 

Constant opened the folding-doors, and in the reception- 
room were seen the marshals and generals assembled. Their 
faces were pale and gloomy, and there was something solemn 
and constrained in their whole bearing. When Napoleon ap- 
peared on the threshold, the groups dispersed, and the gentle- 
men placed themselves in line, silent and noiseless, along the 
wall opposite the emperor, seemingly at a loss whether they or 
the emperor should utter the first word. Napoleon advanced a 
few steps. For the first time his generals, the companions of so 
many years and so many battles, seemed unable to bear the 
emperor’s glance. Napoleon saw this, and a bitter smile 
flitted over his face. “ Marmont,” he exclaimed, in his ring- 
ing voice, “ what do you all want?. Speak!” 

“Sire,” said the marshal, “we wish to take the liberty of 
addressing a question and a request to your majesty.” 

“First, the question, then!” 

“ Sire, we take the liberty of asking whether your majesty 
really intends to cross the Elbe with the army, and to resume 
the struggle on the right bank?” 

“You ask very abruptly and bluntly,” said Napoleon, 
haughtily. “ I need not listen to you, but I will do so, never- 
theless. I will reply to your question, not because I must, 
but because I choose to do so. Yes, gentlemen, I intend to 
transfer the whole army to the right bank of the Elbe in order 
to occupy Brandenburg and Berlin, then face about to the 
river, and make Magdeburg the support of my further opera- 
tions.* This is my plan, and you, according to your duty, 

*Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 491. 


THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 


347 


will assist me in carrying it into execution. I have replied 
to your question. Now let me hear your request.” 

“Sire,” said Marmont, after a brief silence, “now that we 
have heard your gracious reply, I dare to give expression to 
our request, which is not only ours, but that of all the officers 
of the army of France. Sire, we implore you, give up this 
bold plan of operations; do not vainly shed the blood of 
thousands ! The odds are too great, not only in numbers, but 
in warlike ardor. The enemy is struggling against us with 
the fanaticism of hatred, and his threefold superiority seems 
to secure victory to him. Our army, on the contrary, is ex- 
hausted and tired of war, and the consciousness of being en- 
gaged in a struggle that apparently holds out no prospects of 
ultimate success, is paralyzing both its physical and moral 
strength. Sire, we implore you, in the name of France, make 
peace ! Let us return to the Rhine ! Let us at last rest from 
this prolonged war! Oh, sire, give us peace!” 

“Oh, sire, give us peace!” echoed the generals, in solemn 
chorus. 

The emperor’s eyes were fixed in succession upon the faces 
of the bold men who dared thus to address him, and who, at 
this hour, confronted him in a sort of open revolt. An ex- 
pression of anger flushed his face for an instant, and his 
features resumed their impenetrable, stony look. “ You have 
come to hold a council of war with me,” he said. “To be 
sure, I have not summoned you, but no matter. It is your 
unanimous opinion that we should return to the Rhine, 
and thence to France, avoid further battles, and make 
peace?” 

“ Sire, we pray your majesty this time to repress your mili- 
tary genius under the mantle of your imperial dignity,” cried 
the marshal. “ As soon as the general is silent, the emperor 
will perceive that his people and his country need repose and 
peace. France has given her wealth, her vigor, and her 
blood, for twenty years of victories, and she has joyfully done 
so; but now her wealth is exhausted, her strength and her 
youth are gone, for there are in France no more young men, 
only the aged, invalids, and children; the fighting-men lie 
on the battle-fields. Boys have been enrolled, and are form- 
ing the young army of your majesty. Sire, it is the last 
blood that France has to sacrifice : spare it! The enemy is 
thrice as strong as we are, ana even the military genius of your 
majesty will be unable to achieve victories in so unequal a 


348 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


struggle. Listen, therefore, to reason, to necessity, and to 
our prayer; make peace. Sire, let us return to France !” 

Another flush suffused Napoleon’s face, but he controlled 
his anger. “ You believe, then, that it depends on me only 
to make peace?” he asked, in a calm voice. “ You think we 
would find no obstacles in our way if we endeavored now to 
return to France? — that the enemy would leave the roads open 
to us, and be content with our evacuating Germany? This is 
a great mistake, gentlemen. I cannot make peace, for the 
allies would not accept it. They know their strength, and 
are intent on having war. You say their armies are thrice as 
strong as mine, and that is the reason why we could not con- 
quer? I might reply to you what the great Conde replied to 
his generals, when he was about to attack the superior Spanish 
army, ‘ Great battles are gained with small armies. ’ And on 
the following day he gained the battle of Lons. Yes, gentle- 
men, the victor of Roeroy and Lons was right ; great battles 
are gained with small armies; only we must make our dis- 
positions correctly, and scatter the forces of our adversaries, 
instead of giving them an opportunity to concentrate upon 
one point. It is, therefore, of vital importance for me to hold 
the line of the Elbe, for with it I possess all the strong points 
of Bohemia; and, besides, the fortresses of Custrin, Stettin, 
and Glogau, are close to it. If I have to abandon that river, 
I abandon all Germany to the Rhine, with all the fortresses, 
and the vast materiel stored there. That would be to weaken 
us and strengthen the enemy, now on the left bank. I will, 
therefore, cross to the right bank of the Elbe, for thence I am 
able to deploy my whole army without hinderance, and con- 
nect my line with Davoust at Hamburg, and St. Cyr at Dres- 
den. We shall easily take Berlin, raise the sieges of Glogau, 
Stettin, and Custrin, and become masters of the situation. 
Prussia, the hot-bed of this fermentation and revolution, will 
be subjugated and crushed. That will discourage the others, 
and they will fall back as they have so often, their plans will 
be disorganized, and then I shall have gained my cause; for 
the strength of the allies consists chiefly in the fact that they 
are temporarily in harmony. Let us disorganize their plans, 
foster their separate interests, and we gain every thing. When 
the Prussians see their country threatened, they will hasten 
to its assistance; the Russians, Swedes, and Austrians, will 
refuse to change and reorganize their plans of operations for 
the sake of Prussia, and discord will prevent them from act- 


THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 


349 


ing. If Germany had been united, and acted with one will, 
I could not have taken from her a single village or fortress. 
Fortunately, however, the people do not act unanimously; 
wherever ten Germans are assembled, there are also ten sep- 
arate interests at war among them, and this fact has delivered 
the country into my hands. Let us, therefore, profit by this 
national peculiarity; let us stir up their separate interests, 
and that will be as advantageous as though we gained a bat- 
tle. We shall, then, cross over to the right bank of the Elbe, 
make Berlin our centre, support our left on Dresden, our 
right on Magdeburg, and face toward the west. At all events, 
this will bring about an entire change of position, and it will 
then be my task to force my plans*of operation upon the allies. ”* 
“ A task that would be easily accomplished by the genius 
of your majesty, which is so superior to that of all the generals 
of the allies,” said the marshal ; “ but still this whole plan, how 
admirable soever it may be, is altogether too bold. If we 
pass over to the right bank of the Elbe, we would give up all 
connection with France; the allies, it would be believed, had, 
by skilful manoeuvres, cut us off — hurled us into inevitable 
destruction. Moreover — your majesty will pardon me for this 
observation — we can no longer count upon the assistance of 
our German auxiliaries. They will abandon us at the very 
moment when we need them most. Even Bavaria is no longer 
a reliable ally, for, notwithstanding the benefits your majesty 
has conferred on her, she is about to ally herself with Austria. 
Sire, you said a few minutes ago that you counted upon the 
discord of the Germans, but this exists no more, or rather it 
exists only among the princes; but we have no longer to fight 
the latter alone — we have to struggle against the genius of 
Germany, which has risen against us, and for the first time 
the whole nation is united in hatred and wrath. Sire, this 
national spirit is more powerful than all princes and all armies, 
for it overcomes the princes, and makes new armies spring as 
if from the ground to defend the sacred soil of the fatherland. 
Those armies we shall be unable to conquer : for one-half of 
ours is composed of soldiers exhausted by continued wars, and 
longing for peace ; and the other half of young, ignorant con- 
scripts, who will yield to unwonted privations. Therefore, 
sire, I dare renew my prayer, and implore your majesty to 
give up your plan against Berlin! Let us not pass over to 
the right bank of the Elbe, but march toward the Rhine!” 

* Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 492. 


350 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Is that your opinion, too, gentlemen?” asked Napoleon, 
turning toward the generals. “ Do you, though I have con- 
descended to explain to you at length my plan, and the mo- 
tives that have caused m6 to adopt it, still persist in your 
belief that it would he better not to pass to the right bank of 
the Elbe, but to return to the Rhine?” 

“ Yes,” cried the generals, unanimously, “we persist in our 
opinion.” 

Napoleon drew back a step, and a pallor overspread his face ; 
but apparently he remained as cold and calm as ever. “ My 
plan has been deeply calculated,” he said, after a pause; “I 
have admitted into it, as a probable contingency, the defection 
of Bavaria. I am convinced that the plan of marching on 
Berlin is good. A retrograde movement, in the circumstances 
in which we are placed, is disastrous; and those who oppose 
my projects have undertaken a serious responsibility. How- 
ever, I will think of it, and inform you of my final decision.” * 
He saluted the generals with a careless nod and retired again 
into his cabinet. 

The generals looked with anxious faces at one another when 
the door closed. “What shall we do now?” they inquired. 
“Wait, and not yield!” murmured the most resolute among 
them, and all agreed to do so. 

With gloomy glances did Napoleon, after his return to hi3 
cabinet, look at the door that separated him from his mutinous 
generals. He felt that now a new power had taken the field 
against him that might become more dangerous than all the 
others, and that was the revolt of his generals. He heard 
distinctly their last words. They had not said, “We persist 
in our opinion, and would like to return,” but, “We must 
return to France.” His generals, then, dared to have a will 
of their own, and opposed to that of their emperor. They 
knew it, and it did not deter them ! 

“Ah, the wretches,” he murmured to himself, “they are 
blind ! They will not see that we are hastening to destruc- 
tion. They compel me to return as Alexander’s generals com- 
pelled him to return! Woe to us! We are lost!” He sank 
down on the sofa ; and now, when none could see him, the 
veil dropped from his face, the imperial mantle fell from his 
cowering form, and he was but a weak, grief-stricken man, 
who, with a pale and quivering face, was uncertain what to 
do. Hour after hour elapsed. He was still sitting in the 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide Fain, “ Manuscrit de 1813,” vol. i. 


THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 


351 


corner of the sofa, rigid and motionless; only the sighs which 
heaved his breast from time to time, and the quiver of his 
eyelids, betrayed the life that was still animating him. 

The court-marshal entered and announced dinner. The 
emperor waved his hand to him that he might withdraw, and 
his marshals and generals vainly awaited him. They looked 
at each other inquiringly and murmured, “He is reflecting! 
We can wait, but we cannot yield!” 

At the stated hour in the afternoon, the two topographers 
of the emperor, Colonel Bacler d’Alba, and Colonel Duclay, 
entered the emperor’s cabinet. As usual, they rolled the 
table, covered with maps and plans, before the emperor, and 
then took seats at the other table standing in the corner, which 
was also covered in like manner. They waited for the em- 
peror, as was his habit, to speak and discuss his movements 
with them. But he was, silent; he took up, however, a large 
sheet of white paper, and pen, and began to write. What did 
he write? The topographers were unable to see it; they sat 
pen in hand, and waited. But Napoleon was still silent. 
Hour after hour passed; not a sound of the triumphant, 
joyous, and proud life which used to surround the victorious 
emperor was to be heard in the dreary palace of Duben. The 
anterooms were deserted ; the generals remained all day in the 
audience-room, and gazed with sullen faces upon the door of 
the imperial cabinet. But this door did not open. In the 
cabinet the emperor was still on his sofa, now leaning back in 
meditation, and now bending over the map-table, and writ- 
ing slowly. Opposite him sat the two topographers, mourn- 
fully waiting for him to speak to them.* But Napoleon 
wrote, gazed into the air, sank back on the sofa, groaned, 
raised himself again, and wrote on. 

This indifference and silence made a strange impression, 
which frightened even the generals, when the topographers, 
whom the emperor had at length dismissed with a quick wave 
of the hand, and an imperious “Go!” entered the audience- 
room, and told them of this extraordinary conduct. But 
Napoleon had written something, and it was all-important for 
them to know what. They wished to discover whether letters 
or plans had been penned by the emperor, and with what he 
had been occupied all day. “ Let us speak with Constant, ” 
they whispered to each other. “ He alone will enter the cabi- 
net to-day. He has keen eyes, and will he able to see what 

* Odeleben, “The Campaign in Saxony in 1813.” 


352 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the emperor has written.” Constant consented to cast, at a 
favorable moment, a passing glance on the emperor’s desk. 
The generals remained in the audience room and waited. 

An hour passed, when Constant, pale and sad, entered the 
room; he held a large, crumpled sheet of paper in his hand. 
“ The emperor has retired,” he whispered. “He called me, 
and when I entered the cabinet, he was still sitting on the sofa 
at the map-table, and engaged in writing. Suddenly he threw 
down the pen and seized the paper, crumpled it in his hand, 
and threw it on the floor. I picked it up, and may com- 
municate it to you, for it contains no secrets.” All the gen- 
erals stretched out their hands. Constant handed the paper 
to Marshal Marmont. The sheet contained nothing but large 
capital letters, joined with fanciful flourishes.* The generals 
gazed at each other with bewildered eyes. Those capital 
letters, this work of a child, was the day’s labor which the 
energetic emperor had performed! The letters, traced so 
carefully and elaborately, made an afwul impression on the 
beholders — a whole history of secret despair, stifled tears of 
grief, and bitter imprecations, spoke from this crumpled sheet 
of paper. The generals turned pale, as if imminent danger 
was hovering over them — as if Fate had sent them its Runic 
letters, which they were unable to decipher. They left the 
room in silence, but murmured still, “ We can wait, but we 
cannot yield.” 

Night had come. Silence settled on the mournful palace 
of Duben. The emperor lay on his field-bed, but he did not 
sleep ; for Constant, who was in the cabinet adjoining the im- 
perial bedchamber, heard him often sigh and utter words of 
anger and grief. In the middle of the night the valet heard 
a loud, piercing cry, and ran into the bedchamber. The 
emperor was in agony, writhing, and a prey to violent con- 
vulsions. He was ill with colic, which so often visited him, 
and the pallor of death overspread his face. 

Constant hastened to bring the usual remedies, but he did 
not send for the doctor; for he knew that Napoleon did not 
like to have any importance attached to this illness. The 
pain at length yielded to the remedies applied. The emperor 
submitted to Constant’s entreaties, and drank the soothing 
tea which he always took at these evil hours, and the efficacy 
of which in such cases had been discovered by the Empress 
Josephine. He put the teacup on the table, and locked very 

♦Constant, “MCmoires,” vol. v., p. ;J69. 


THE REVOLT OF THE GENERALS. 


353 


melancholy. Possibly he remembered how often Josephine’s 
presence had comforted him during such hours — how her 
small hand had wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead 
— how his weary head had rested in her lap, and how her 
tender words had consoled and strengthened him. Possibly 
he remembered all this, for he murmured in a low voice, 
“Ah, Josephine, why are you not with me? You are my 
guardian angel! My star has set with you!” Then his 
head sank back on the pillow, and he closed his eyes. Per- 
haps his grief made him sleep. 

Early on the following morning a carriage rolled into the 
court-yard, and Marshal Augereau requested an audience of 
the emperor, who had reentered his map-cabinet. 

“Augereau,” said the emperor to his marshal, “you bring 
me bad news!” 

“ Only news, sire, which your majesty has already foreseen. 
It is the defection of Bavaria, and her accession to the al- 
liance.” 

The emperor bent his head on his breast. “ It must be so. 
All are deserting me. I must submit. Augereau,” he said, 
aloud, “ Bavaria has deserted me, but, what is still worse, my 
generals have done so, too. They will no longer follow me. 
They refuse to obey me ; my plans seem too rash and danger- 
ous. They do not wish to go to Berlin — they want peace! 
Do you understand, Augereau, peace at a moment when all are 
arming — when war is inevitable, and when it is all-important 
for me to extricate myself as advantageously as possible from 
the snare in which we shall be caught if the allies profit by 
their superiority, and draw together the net surrounding us.” 

“ Sire, and I believe they have the will to do so,” cried Au- 
gereau. “Nothing but the commanding military genius of 
your majesty is still able to conquer.” 

A painful smile quivered round the pale lips of the emperor. 
“Ah, Augereau,” he said, “we are no longer the soldiers 
of Jena and Austerlitz. I have no longer any generals on 
whose obedience I may count. I shall give up my plan, I 
shall not pass over to the right bank of the Elbe, but, by 
taking this resolution, I renounce all victories and successes, 
and it only remains for me to succumb with honor, and to 
have opened as advantageous a passage as possible through 
Germany to France.” 

The marshals and generals were again assembled in the 
audience-room, and gazed in sullen expectation at the door 


354 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


of the imperial cabinet. Suddenly the emperor, pale and calm 
as usual, walked in, followed by Marshal Augereau. All eyes 
were fixed upon the emperor, whose lips were to proclaim 
the events of the future. 

Advancing into the middle of the room, he raised his head, 
and sternly glanced along the line of generals. “ Gentlemen,” 
he said, in a loud voice, “I have changed my plan. We 
shall not pass over to the right bank of the Elbe, but turn 
toward Leipsic 4o-morrow. May those who have occasioned 
this movement never regret it!” * 

A shout of joy burst forth when the emperor paused. The 
generals surrounded him, now that they had attained their 
object, to thank him for his magnanimity, and then they 
cheerfully looked at each other, shook hands, and exclaimed 
in voices trembling with emotion, “ We shall again embrace 
our parents, our wives, our children, our friends !”f 

“Ah, Augereau,” said the emperor, mournfully, “you see 
I could not act otherwise; it was their will! But you, who 
are of my opinion that this retrograde movement is a calam- 
ity, will be able to testify in my favor if the future shows 
that I am right. You will state that I was compelled to 
pursue a path which I knew would lead to destruction!” 


CHAPTER X XXVIII. 

THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 

The struggle had already been going on for two days. On 
the 15th and 16th of October the Austrians, Russians, Prus- 
sians, and Swedes, had fought a number of engagements with 
the French between Halle and Leipsic. The Austrians, or 
the army of Bohemia, commanded by Schwartzenberg, the 
general-in-chief, had been defeated by the French at Wachau 
on the loth of October; but the Prussians and Russians, 
under Blucher, had gained a brilliant victory at Mock era on 
the 16th of October; and though the Swedes, under Berna- 
dette, had not participated in the battle, and had, as usual, 
managed on that day to keep away from the carnage, they 
had at the same time contrived to participate in the glory of 
victory. 

♦Napoleon’s words.— Constant, vol. v., p. 269 . 
tlbid. 


THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 


355 


The French had not gained a single decisive battle during 
these two days, and yet Napoleon himself was at the head of 
his forces, directing their movements. Thousands of his 
soldiers lay on the blood-stained field of Wachau, and thou- 
sands more were mown down at Mockern. His army was 
melting away hour by hour, while that of his enemies con- 
stantly increased. Fresh reserves were moved up ; the battle 
array of the allies grew more imposing and overwhelming, 
and the great, decisive battle was drawing nigh. 

It was the evening of the second day, the 16th of October. 
Napoleon, who had his headquarters on the preceding day at 
Reudnitz, four miles from Leipsic, removed them for the 
night into the open field, from which the city could be seen, 
and behind it the numerous fires of the allies gleamed through 
the gathering shades. Beside the emperor’s tent a large 
camp-fire was kindled, and near it, on a small field-stool, cov- 
ered with red morocco, sat Napoleon, his gray overcoat closely 
buttoned up, his three-cornered hat drawn over his forehead, 
and his arms folded on his breast. His guards, who were 
encamping in the plain in wide circles around him, could 
distinctly see him, partially illuminated by the camp-fire. 
That bent, dark form was their only hope — a hope which did 
not look up to the stars shining above them, but which was 
satisfied with a mortal, who they believed could guide and 
protect them. And he indeed could save them from death 
by discontinuing the struggle, by accepting peace, though at 
the heaviest cost — at the sacrifice of all his possessions outside 
of France. 

Two forms approached the camp-fire. It was only when 
they stood by the emperor’s side, that he perceived them and 
looked up. He recognized the grave faces of Marshal Berthier 
and Count Daru. 

“ What do you want?” he asked, in a husky voice. 

“Sire,” said Berthier, solemnly, “we come, as envoys of 
all the superior officers of the army, to lay our humble 
requests before your majesty.” 

“Have you any thing to request?” asked Napoleon, sneer- 
ingly. “ I thought I had fulfilled at Duben all the wishes 
of my generals ; I gave up my plan against Berlin and the 
right bank of the Elbe, and marched to Leipsic, in order to 
take the direct road to France. Are my generals not yet 
satisfied?” 

“ Sire, who could suppose that on this road we would meet 


356 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


all the corps of the allies ?” sighed the Prince of Neufchatel. 
“Even your majesty did not know it.” 

“I did not,” replied Napoleon, “but my star forewarned 
me, and I conceived the plan of going to Berlin. You over- 
came my will; what do you still want?” 

“ Sire,” said Berthier, almost timidly, “we want to implore 
your majesty to offer an armistice and peace to the allies. 
Our troops are dreadfully exhausted by these days of inces- 
sant fighting, and are, besides, discouraged by the continued 
victories of our enemies. The generals, too, are disheartened, 
the more so as we are unable to continue the struggle two days 
longer, because our ammunition begins to fail. We have 
recently used such a vast amount that scarcely enough remains 
for a single day. Sire, if we, however, continue to fight and 
are defeated, the road to France is open to our enemies, and 
your majesty cannot prevent the allies from marching di- 
rectly upon Paris, for France has no soldiers to defend her 
when our army is routed. Let your majesty, therefore, have 
mercy on your country and your people; discontinue the war, 
and make proposals of peace!” 

“Yes, sire,” said Daru, “become anew the benefactor of 
your country, overcome your great heart for the welfare of 
your people and your army, whose last columns are assembled 
around you, and await life or death from your lips. The 
terrible, unforeseen event has taken us by surprise; we were 
not sufficiently prepared. We have no ambulances, no hospi- 
tals; all the elements of victory are wanting, for when the 
soldier knows that, after the battle, if he should be wounded 
or taken sick, he will find a good bed, careful treatment, and 
medical attendance, he goes with a feeling of some sort of 
security into battle; but we are destitute of these necessities. 
Your majesty knows full well that this is no fault of mine, 
but still it is so, and that we lack almost every thing. Your 
majesty, therefore, will be gracious enough to take a resolu- 
tion which, it is true, is painful and deplorable, but under 
the circumstances indispensable.” 

Napoleon listened to the two gentlemen with calmness and 
attention. When Count Daru was silent, he fixed a sarcastic 
eye first on him, then on Berthier. “ Have you any thing else 
to say?” he then asked. The two gentlemen bowed in silence. 

“Well, then,” said Napoleon, rising, and, with his arms 
folded, “I will reply to both of you. Berthier, you know 
that I do not attach to your opinion in such matters as much 


THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 


3 57 


as a straw’s value; you may, therefore, save yourself the 
trouble of speaking! As to you, Count Daru, it is your task 
to wield the pen, and not the sword; you are incapable of 
passing an opinion on this question. As to those who are of 
the same way of thinking, and whose envoys you are, tell them 
as my determined and final answer simply, ‘They shall obey !’ ” * 

He turned his back upon them and entered his tent. Con- 
stant and Roustan had taken pains to give it as comfortable 
and elegant an appearance as possible. A beautiful Turkish 
carpet covered the floor. On the table in the middle of the 
tent were placed the emperor’s supper, consisting of some 
cold viands on silver plates and dishes. On another table 
was an inkstand, papers, books, and maps; and in a nook, 
formed by curtains and draperies, stood the emperor’s field- 
bed. The sight of this snug little room, and the stillness 
surrounding him, seemed to do him good ; the solitude allowed 
him to let the mask fall from his face, and to permit the 
melancholy and painful thoughts which filled his soul to 
reflect themselves in his features. With a sigh resembling a 
groan he sank down on the easy-chair. “ They want to crush 
me to earth,” he murmured — “ to transform the giant into a 
pigmy, because they are too much afraid of his strength. 
Their fear has at length made brave men of these allies, and 
they have resolved to put me on the bed of Procrustes, and 
to reduce me to the size of a common man, like themselves. 
Will it be necessary to submit to this ? Must I allow them 
to cut off my limbs, to save my life?” He paused, and 
became absorbed deeper in his reflections. 

Suddenly he was interrupted by approaching footsteps. 
The curtain of the tent was drawn back, and one of the 
emperor’s adjutants appeared. “ Sire, ” he said, “ the Austrian 
General Meerfeldt, who was taken prisoner by your majesty’s 
troops at Wachau, has just arrived under escort, and awaits 
your orders.” 

The emperor rose more quickly than usual. “Fate re- 
sponds to my questions and doubts,” he said to himself, 
hastily pacing his tent floor. “I endeavored to find an ex- 
pedient, and a mediator appears between myself and my 
enemies. All is not yet lost, then, for Fate seems still to be 
my ally.” He turned with a quick motion of his head 
toward the adjutant. “Admit General Meerfeldt. I will 
see him.” 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide “ Memoirs of the Duchess d’Abrantes,” vol. xvi., p. 386. 




358 NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 

A few minutes afterward the Austrian general entered the 
tent. The emperor quickly met him, and gazed with a 
strange, triumphant look into the embarrassed face of the 
count. “I believe we are old acquaintances,” said Napoleon, 
“for, if I am not mistaken, it was you who, in 1-797, solicited 
the armistice of Leoben, and you participated, too, in the 
negotiations which terminated in the treaty of Campo-For- 
mio.” 

“Yes, sire, you are right; I had at that time the good 
fortune to become acquainted with General Bonaparte,” said 
Count Meerfeldt, with a deep bow; “he was just entering a 
career which has led him from victory to victory, and 
adorned his head with well-merited laurels.” 

“ Yes, you were one of the signers of the treaty of Campo- 
Formio,” exclaimed Napoleon. “But that was not all. Was 
it not you who wished to present me, in the name of the 
emperor of Austria, with some magnificent gifts? What was 
it you came to offer me then?” 

“Sire,” said the count, in confusion, “I had orders to 
repeat that which Count Cobenzl had already vainly pro- 
posed to General Bonaparte. I had orders to offer him, in 
the emperor’s name, a principality in Germany, several 
millions in ready money, and a team of six white horses.” 

“ I declined the principality in Germany because I thought 
that one ought either to inherit or conquer sovereignties, but 
never accept them as gifts, for he who accepts a gift always 
remains the moral vassal of the giver. I rejected the millions 
because I would not allow myself to be bribed; but I did ac- 
cept the six horses, and with them made my entry into Ger- 
many and came to Rastadt.” 

“ It was the first triumphal procession of your majesty in 
Germany, and, like Julius Caesar, you could say, ‘ I came, 
saw, and conquered!’ ” 

“ Since then circumstances have greatly changed,” said the 
emperor, thoughtfully; “General Bonaparte became the 
Emperor Napoleon, and the latter did what General Bona- 
parte refused to do : he accepted at the hands of the Emperor 
of Austria a gift more precious than principalities, for it was 
a beautiful young wife. Ah, general, you are my prisoner, 
and I ough- not to release you, but send you to Paris, that 
you might have the good fortune of kissing the hand of the 
Empress of France, the daughter of my enemy, and of seeing 
whether the little fair-haired King of Rome looks like his 


THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 


359 


grandfather. But no, I will set you at liberty, I will make 
you my negotiator! You were one of those with whom I 
concluded, in the name of France, the first peace with 
Austria; I, therefore, commission you now to mediate my 
last peace ; for I want to wage no more wars — I am tired of 
this unceasing bloodshed; I ask naught but to repose in 
peace, and dream of the happiness of France, after having 
dreamed of its glory. Go, repeat this to the emperor, your 
master; tell him that I desire no more conquests, but repose. 
Tell him that I long for nothing more ardently than peace, 
and that I am ready to conclude it, even before our swords 
have crossed.” 

“Sire,” said Count Meerfeldt, hesitatingly, “if I repeat all 
this to the emperor, he will ask me what guaranties your 
majesty offers him, and what cessions of territory you propose 
to make.” 

“ Cessions of territory!” exclaimed Napoleon. “Yes, that 
is it! You want to render me powerless; that is all you are 
fighting for; that is why the Russians and Swedes are in 
Germany; that is why the Germans accept subsidies at the 
hands of England ! — all to attain a single object : to deprive 
me of my power, and narrow the boundaries of France. But 
do you think that the Russians, the Swedes, and the English, 
will require no indemnities for services rendered, and that 
they will very conveniently find them in the territories which 
you propose to wrest from me ? What will Germany gain 
thereby? She will have rendered France, her natural ally, so 
powerless that she can never assist her, and, in return, she 
will have secured a footing in Germany to her three natural 
enemies, Russia — that is, barbarism ; England — that is, foreign 
industry and commerce in colonial goods; Sweden — that is, 
navigation on the northern shores. But you will do all this 
rather than leave me in possession of my power, though I tell 
you that I wish to fight no more, but long for repose. Is it 
not so?” 

“Sire,” said Count Meerfeldt, in a low voice, “the allied 
sovereigns are, perhaps, familiar with the words of Caesar, who 
said that laurels, if they were not to wither, should be often 
bathed in hostile blood, and fed every year with soil from 
new fields of victory. Your majesty being the modern Caesar, 
the allies may be afraid lest you should adopt this maxim.” 

“Yes,” cried Napoleon, “you are afraid of the very sleep 
of the lion; you fear that you will never be easy before having 


360 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


pared his nails and cut his mane. Well, then, after you have 
placed him in this predicament, what will be the consequence? 
Have the allied sovereigns reflected? You think only of 
repairing, by a single stroke, the calamities of twenty years; 
and, carried away by this idea, you never perceive the 
changes which time has made around you, and that for 
Austria to gain now, at the expense of France, is to lose. 
Tell your sovereign to take that into consideration, Count 
Meerfeldt; it is neither Austria, nor France, nor Prussia, 
singly, that will be able to arrest on the Vistula the inunda- 
tion of a half-nomadic people essentially conquering, and 
whose dominions extend to China. I comprehend, however, 
that in order to make peace, I must make sacrifices and I 
am ready to do so.* For the very purpose of stating this to 
the Emperor Francis, I set you at liberty, provided you give 
me your parole to serve no longer in this campaign against 
France.” 

“ Sire, to fight against France has been so painful a duty 
that I joyfully give my word to serve no longer unless per- 
mitted to do so for France — that is to say, for your majesty.” 

“ You may go, then, and lay my proposals before the Em- 
peror Francis. You will tell him this: I offer to evacuate 
all fortresses in Germany to the Rhine, and consent to the 
dissolution of the Confederation of the Rhine. I am ready to 
restore Illyria and Spain to their former sovereigns. I further 
consent to the independence of Italy and Holland. If 
England refuses to grant peace on the seas, we will try to 
negotiate it, and Austria is to be the mediator.” f 

“Sire, these are such satisfactory promises,” cried Count 
Meerfeldt, “that I am afraid my mere word will be insuffi- 
cient to convince my master that you really intend to grant 
so much.” 

“ I will give you a letter to the Emperor Francis, in which 
I shall make these proposals,” said Napoleon, quickly. “ Yes, 
I will write once more to the emperor. Our political alliance 
is broken, but between your master and me there is another 
bond, which is indissoluble. That is what I invoke, for I 
always place confidence in the regard of my father-in-law.” 

He went to his desk, and penned a few lines with a hasty 
hand, folded, sealed, and directed the letter. “Here,” he 
said, approaching the count, “ is my letter to my father-in- 

* Napoleon’s words.— Fain, “Manuscrit de 1813,” vol. i., pp. 412, 414. 


THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 


361 


law. You will immediately repair to him, and deliver it into 
his hands. The emperor will communicate it to the other 
sovereigns, and they will take their resolutions accordingly. 
Tell him that I shall not attack to-morrow, but discontinue 
further hostilities until I have received his answer; and that 
I shall certainly expect him to return an answer by to-morrow. 
Adieu, general ! When on my behalf you speak to the two 
emperors of an armistice, I doubt not the voice which strikes 
their ears will be eloquent indeed in recollections.” * 

“It is my last effort,” murmured the emperor to himself, 
when Count Meerfeldt had left ; “ if it fail, nothing but a 
struggle of life and death remains to me, and, by Heaven, I 
will certainly fight it out ! The crisis is at hand, and I cannot 
evade it. I will meet it with my eyes open. The laurels of 
Marengo and Austerlitz are not yet withered. To-morrow 
there will be a cessation of hostilities, and on the day after 
to-morrow peace, or war to the last!” 

On the 17th of October no hostilities took place. Napoleon 
awaited the reply of his father-in-law. But it did not come; 
it was deemed unnecessary to observe the forms of courtesy 
toward him before whom, only a year ago, they had prostrated 
themselves so often in the dust. 

The battle recommenced on the 18th of October. The 
booming of a thousand cannon was the answer of the allies. 
Napoleon, with only three hundred cannon, replied that he 
understood this answer to his peace propositions. Upward of 
three hundred thousand soldiers of the allies filled the plains 
around Leipsic. Napoleon had scarcely one hundred and 
twenty thousand to oppose to them, and his men were ex- 
hausted and discouraged. But he appeared on this day along 
the whole line, encouraging his troops by his cheerful counte- 
nance and his brief addresses. He seemed to infuse fresh 
courage and enthusiasm into the hearts of the French. They 
arose with the heroism of former days, and plunged into the 
thickest of the fight; the earth trembled beneath the thunder 
of cannon, the cheers of the victors, and the imprecations of 
the vanquished. The French did not yield an inch ; they 
stood like a wall, broken here and there, but the gaps filled up 
again in a moment, and those who had taken the places of the 
fallen exhibited the same devoted heroism, for Napoleon was 
there. 

And Blucher was also there. He halted opposite the enemy 

* Napoleon’s words— Vide Beitzke, vol. ii. , p. 592. 

24 


362 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


with his Silesian army (one-half of which he had placed under 
the crown prince of Sweden), composed of Russians and Prus- 
sians. Blucher, too, fired the hearts of his men by energetic 
words, and they fought with matchless bravery, for they 
fought before the eyes of their general. He shared with 
them every fatigue and danger; he drank with them, when 
he was thirsty, from one bottle ; lighted his pipe from their 
pipes, and spoke to them, not in the condescending tone of a 
master, but in their own unreserved and cordial manner. 
Rushing onward with shouts of victory, they attacked the 
enemy with irresistible impetuosity, forcing the French to 
fall back, step by step. 

“ Every thing is going on right, Gneisenau !” exclaimed 
Blucher. “Bonaparte cannot hold out; he must at length 
retreat. He is contracting the circle of his troops more and 
more, and advancing toward Leipsic. Ah, I understand, M. 
Bonaparte; you want to march through Leipsic and keep 
open the passage across the Saale! But it won’t do — it won’t 
do! For Blucher is here, and his eyes are yet good. — A 
courier! Come here! Ride to General York! He is to set 
out this very night and occupy the banks of the Saale, and 
impede as much as possible the retreat of the enemy, who 
intends to fall back across the Saale.' — Another courier! 
Ride to General Langeron ! He is to return to-night to the 
right bank of the Partha, support General Sacken, and, as 
soon as the enemy begins to retreat, pursue him with the 
utmost energy.” 

“But, general,” said Gneisenau, when the courier galloped 
off, “ as yet Napoleon does not seem to think of retreating. 
He maintains his position and offers a bold front.” 

“He will not do so to-morrow,” said Blucher, laconically. 
“ If we do to-day what we can, he is annihilated. God grant 
that our victory may be followed up, and that they may not 
grow soft-hearted again at headquarters! The Emperor of 
Austria never forgets that Bonaparte is his son-in-law; nor the 
crown prince of Sweden that he is a native of France, and he 
would like to spare his countrymen further bloodshed; nor 
the Emperor of Russia, that at Erfurt he plighted eternal 
fidelity to Napoleon, and kissed him as his brother. But our 
king, I believe, will always remember that Bonaparte humili- 
ated and oppressed us, and that Queen Louisa died of grief 
and despair. He will not suffer the others to make peace 
too early, and cause us to shed our blood and spend our 


THE BATTLE OF LEIPSIC. 


3G3 


strength for nothing. We must be indemnified, and it is by 
no means enough for us merely to gain a victory over Bona- 
parte. He must surrender alJ that he has taken from us. 
Germany must have satisfaction, and I must have mine, too; 
for the anger I have felt for years has almost killed me. I 
want to be even with him, and shall not rest before he is 
hurled from his throne. — What is going on there? Why are 
they cheering yonder? Look, Gneisenau, one of the enemy’s 
columns is advancing upon us. Do you hear the music? 
What does it mean?” 

“It means, general,” shouted an orderly, who galloped up, 
“ that the Saxons are coming over to us. With thirty-two 
field-pieces, and drums beating, they have left the lines of the 
French, and, when these tried to prevent them, they turned 
their bayonets against their former comrades.” 

Blucher’s eye lit up. “Well,” he said, “now they will no 
longer extol Bonaparte’s extraordinary luck. To-day at least 
he has none. The Saxons have felt at last that they are 
Germans, and wish to purge themselves of their disgrace. I 
say, Gneisenau, Bonaparte must retreat to-morrow.” And 
what Blucher said here to Gneisenau was what Berthier said 
to Napoleon: “The battle is lost! We must retreat.” 

Night came. It is true, the French remained on the field ; 
they did not flee, but they had no strength to continue the 
battle; their ammunition was exhausted, for they had dis- 
charged on this day an incredible amount of cannon-shot. 
Napoleon felt that he had certainly to retreat, and submit 
to what was inevitable. At the camp-fire, near the turf-mill, 
sat the emperor; his generals surrounded him, and listened 
in silence to his words, falling from his lips slowly and sadly. 
He ordered dispositions to be made for a retreat, and Berthier 
repeated the orders to his two adjutants, who were kneeling 
on the other side of the camp-fire, and writing them down. 
Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, Napoleon paused, and 
his head dropped on his breast. The emperor had fallen 
asleep ! 

His generals, respecting this respite from sorrow and 
misfortune, preserved silence. The fire shed a blood-red 
lustre over the group; at times the flames flickered up 
higher, and illuminated the form of the emperor, who, 
with his head on his breast, his arms hanging down on both 
sides of the camp-stool, his body gently moving to and fro, 
was still wrapped in slumber. At times, when the fire blazed 


364 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


up, and shed a flood of light on the plain, shadows were seen 
emerging from the gloom, and a long line moved past. It 
was a portion of the imperial army already retreating toward 
Leipsic. 

A quarter of an hour thus elapsed when Napoleon gave a 
slight start, and, raising his head, cast a long look of aston- 
ishment on the persons surrounding him. His sleep had 
made him for an instant forget his troubles, but the sombre 
glances of his generals and the noise of the troops filing by, 
reminded him of what had happened. His eye resumed its 
calm expression, and, in a firm, sonorous voice he recom- 
menced giving his orders. Suddenly a whizzing sound w T as 
in the air above him — a grenade fell to the ground close to 
the emperor, burrowed into the earth, and scattered the 
camp-fire. 

“It is a cold night,” said the emperor, composedly; 
“make up the fire again, and add fresh fuel!” 

The adjutants ran to collect the firebrands, and the generals 
themselves hastened to pile on the fuel. But another whiz- 
zing sound rent the air, and another grenade fell into the 
fire, which had just blazed up again; it almost extinguished 
the flames, and remained in the midst of the coals. 

Napoleon gazed musingly on the ball, and strange thoughts 
probably filled his soul at the sight of this messenger at his 
feet.* “It is enough,” he said calmly; “no more fire may 
be kindled! My horse! To Leipsic! I will spend the night 
there.” The horses were brought; attended by Berthier, 
Caulaincourt, and a few orderlies, the emperor rode to Leipsic, 
and took up his quarters at the Hotel de Prusse. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 

It was eight o’clock on the following morning. A dense 
fog covered Leipsic as with an impenetrable veil, and ex- 
tended far over the landscape. No one could see as yet, in 
the darkness of the night, what had been done by friend or 
foe. At times the allies heard loud explosions, and saw 
flashes on the side of the French; then all was dark and 
silent again. Suddenly, however, a bright glare illuminated 

♦Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 615. 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


365 


the night, for in the French camp large fires hlazed, and, 
like a flaming serpent, stretched our far into the plain. 

“Ha!” said Blucher; “Gneisenau, I was right after all: 
Bonaparte is retreating. Do you know the meaning of those 
fires? The French have placed their caissons on both sides 
of the road, and set them on fire, that they may serve as 
beacons to the retreating troops. See ! they reach up to the 
city of Leipsic. It is as I said ; the French intend to march 
through that city, and retreat across the Saale. Well, I 
think General York will await them there, and Langeron will 
finish them. But come, Gneisenau, the fog is clearing. 
Let us ride to yonder knoll ; we shall be able to see better 
there.” 

With the nimbleness of a lad Blucher mounted his horse, 
and, no longer restraining his impatience, he galloped off. 
Gneisenau rode by his side, and at some distance behind him 
trotted the pipe-master, with the iron box on the pommel 
of his saddle. 

They reached the crest of the knoll and stopped. The 
fog had disappeared, and they could distinctly see a field of 
horror and desolation as far as their eyes reached. The 
immense plain was covered far and wide with piles of corpses ; 
rivulets of blood intersected the down-trodden soil ; fragments 
of wagons, cannon, and vast heaps -of horses, lay in wild 
disorder, and all around the horizon gleamed the dying fires 
of upward of twenty villages. 

Blucher cast a mournful look on this harrowing spectacle. 
“ Gneisenau,” he said, “it is almost impossible for one to 
rejoice over this victory, for it costs too many tears — too 
much blood. How those poor brave men are lying there, 
dead or dying, and have not even a grave at which their 
mothers and wives may weep! May the good God in heaven 
have mercy on their souls, and comfort those who are weep- 
ing for them ! ” He took off his cap, and, shading his face 
with it, uttered a short, low prayer for the repose of the 
dead. With a quick jerk he then put on his cap again. 
“Well,” he said, “we have prayed, and we will now try to 
find that accursed Bonaparte, who is at the bottom of all this 
carnage, and — ” 

At this moment the pipe-master galloped up to his general. 

“ Well, what do you want, Christian? ” 

“The morning pipe,” said Christian, presenting the short 
pipe to his master. 


366 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER, 


Blucher stretched out his hand for it, but drew it hack and 
cast a glance on the piles of dead which covered the battle- 
field. “ No, pipe-master,” he said, solemnly, “it would be 
unbecoming to smoke here. We should show our respect 
for the dead; but hold the pipe in readiness for me, and 
when we ride back I will take it. Now, get out of my way, 
that I may no longer see the pipe, else — Begone, Chris- 
tian !” 

“No, I shall stay,” said the pipe-master, coolly; “I have 
promised the general’s wife always to stay near him, and, 
besides, you will soon need me, for you will not stand it long 
without your pipe. Call me, your excellency, when you want 
me.” He moved his horse a few steps back, and was busily 
occupied in keeping the general’s pipe lit. 

Blucher and Gneisenau in the mean time were keenly look- 
ing to the side of the French camp; but not a vestige of it 
was to be seen. There could be no doubt now that Napoleon 
had commenced retreating; he had profited by the night to 
remove the remnants of his army toward Leipsic, that they 
might still be able to cross the Saale without hinderance. 
Blucher uttered a loud cry of joy. “ He is retreating! Gnei- 
senau, am I right now?” 

“Yes, general, you are. With your sagacity you have 
divined Napoleon’s plans better than the rest of us, and, 
thanks to your wise dispositions, he will find Langeron and 
Sacken at the gates of Leipsic, and York on the banks of the 
Saale.” 

“My dear sir, he will find us, too,” exclaimed Blucher, in 
great glee. “We are not through yet; I know Napoleon 
thoroughly. You think, perhaps, that he has merely rested 
at Leipsic, and will evacuate the city without fighting ? No, 
sir, then you do not know much about him. He will not 
yield an inch unless he must. By a battle in and around 
Leipsic, he intends to cover the retreat of his army, and I 
tell you, Gneisenau, we shall have hard work yet. Forward !” 

“Yes, forward!” cried Gneisenau. “We must dispatch 
couriers to all the generals, and send them the glad tidings.” 

“Now comes the last assault,” shouted Blucher. “We 
must take the city by storm ; and this will blow Bonaparte 
over the Rhine, and back to France, like a bundle of rags! 
Forward! Pipe-master, my pipe! We will attack them!” 

At ten in the morning the cannon commenced booming 
again around Leipsic. The city was attacked on all sides by 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


367 


the armies of the allies. In the south stood the commander- 
in-chief, Prince Schwartzenberg, with the Austrian army ; in 
the east, the Russian General Benningsen and the crown 
prince of Sweden ; in the north, Blucher, with the Prussians, 
and the Russian corps under General Sacken. 

“Charge!” shouted Blucher to his troops. “General 
Bulow has attacked the Halle gate; we must hasten to his 
assistance, for the French are stubborn.” 

At this moment another volley of grape-shot was discharged 
from the pieces which the French had placed inside the city, 
and hurled death and destruction into the ranks of the assail- 
ants. 

“We must reenforce Bulow,” cried Blucher! “General 
Sacken must advance his troops! We must hurl light in- 
fantry against the gate! Charge! Forward!” And, bran- 
dishing his sword, Blucher galloped to the side of General 
Sacken, who was moving with the Russians toward the 
point of attack. 

“Forward!” thundered Blucher to the troops. The 
Russians did not understand him, but they saw his counte- 
nance radiant with impatience and warlike ardor, his flashing 
eyes, and uplifted hand pointing the sword at the gate, and 
they understood his meaning. 

“Perod!” shouted the Russians, exultingly. “Forward! 
Perod! ” 

The grape-shot of the enemy, and the rattling fire of the 
French skirmishers behind the walls, drowned their shouts. 
But when the artillery ceased and the smoke disappeared, they 
saw again the face of the old general with his young eyes, 
and the long white mustache. He halted on his horse in 
the midst of the shower of bullets fired by the skirmishers, 
and uttered again and again his favorite command. 

“Marshal Perod !” shouted the Russians. “He is a little 
Suwarrow! Long live little Suwarrow! Long live Marshal 
Forward!” and, amid renewed battle-cries in honor of 
Blucher, and with resistless impetuosity, the Russians as- 
saulted the gate. 

While these scenes were passing outside the city, Napoleon 
remained within. He had sat up till daylight with Caulain- 
court and Berthier, receiving reports and issuing orders; 
toward morning he had slept a little, and now, at ten o’clock, 
he dictated his last orders to the two generals. In the streets 
were heard the roar of artillery, the crashing Of falling 


368 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


buildings, the wails, shrieks, and shouts of the terrified 
inhabitants. The field-pieces rattled past, regiments trotted 
along, and disappeared around the corners, constituting a 
scene of. indescribable terror and destruction; but here, iu 
the emperor’s room, every thing presented a spectacle of 
peace and repose. Caulaincourt and Berthier sat at their 
desks, writing. The emperor was slowly walking up and 
down. He did not even listen to the noise outside; he 
dictated his orders in a calm, firm voice, and his face was as 
immovable as usual. 

“Marshal Macdonald, ” said the emperor, concluding his 
instructions, “ is commissioned to defend the city and the 
suburbs ; for this purpose he will have his own corps, and 
those of Lauriston, Poniatowsky, and Reynier. He will hold 
the city until the corps of Marmont and Key have evacuated 
it, and the rear-guard safely withdrawn. As soon as these 
troops have crossed the Pleisse, the bridge will be blown up. ” 
He nodded to his generals, and, striding across the room, 
opened the door of the antechamber. “ To horse, gentlemen !” 
he shouted to the generals assembled there. “ We must start 
for Erfurt!” He slowly descended the staircase and mounted 
his horse, the generals and adjutants following him in silence. 

But the emperor did not turn his horse toward the side 
where the troops were marching along in heavy columns; he 
rode to the market-place, and halted in front of a large, old- 
fashioned house in the middle of the square. The King of 
Saxony and his consort lived there. “Wait!” said the em- 
peror to his suite, alighting from his horse, and walking past 
the saluting sentinels into the house. 

In the small sitting-room up-stairs were old King Frederick 
Augustus, his consort, and the Princess Augusta. The king 
sat with his hands folded on his knees, and his lustreless 
eye fixed on the windows, trembling incessantly from the 
roar of artillery and the rattle of musketry. The queen was 
near him., and whenever the volleys resounded, she groaned, 
and covered her face with her handkerchief, which was 
already moist with tears. The Princess Augusta knelt in a 
corner of the room, praying, while tears were rolling down 
her cheeks. 

“ Oh,” murmured the queen when another rattle of musketry 
rent the air, “why does not a bullet strike my heart!” 

“Father in heaven, and all saints, have mercy on us!” 
prayed the princess. 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


369 


“Grant victory to the great and noble Emperor Napoleon, 
my God!” sighed the king. “ I love him as a father, and he 
has always treated me with the love of a son. I have remained 
faithful to him when all the others betrayed him. Punish 
not my constancy, therefore, my Lord and God; grant victory 
to Napoleon, that happiness may be restored to me!” 

A cry burst from the lips of the queen, and she started up 
from her seat. “The emperor!” she cried, looking toward 
the door. 

Yes, in the open door that form in the gray, buttoned-up 
overcoat, with the small hat, and pale, stony face, was the 
Emperor Napoleon’s. “I come to bid you farewell,” he 
said, stepping slowly and calmly to the king. 

“Farewell!” groaned Frederick Augustus, sinking back. 
“ All is lost, then !” 

“No, not all, sire,” said Napoleon, solemnly, “We have 
lost a battle, but not our honor. The fortune of battles is 
fickle. After twenty years of victory, it has this time declared 
against me. But honor remains to me. I have, for four 
days, held out against an army three times as large as mine in 
troops, as well as in artillery, and they have not overpowered 
me. I have voluntarily evacuated the battle-field, not in a 
wild flight as did the Prussians at Jena, and the Austrians at 
Austerlitz. Our honor is intact. With that we must con- 
tent ourselves this time.” 

“Oh, sire,” cried the king, with tearful eyes, “how gener- 
ous you are! You speak of our honor! But /have lost my 
honor, for my troops have committed treason — they deserted 
my noble, beloved ally during the battle! Oh, sire, pardon 
me! I am innocent of the defection of my troops!” And, 
rising, the king made a movement as if to kneel; but Napo- 
leon held him in his arms, and then gently pressed him back 
into the easy-chair. “Sire,” he said, “treason is a disease 
which, by this time, has become an epidemic in Germany. 
All those who are now fighting against me are traitors, for all 
of them were my allies, and, while still negotiating with me, 
they had already formed a league against me. Your Saxons 
were infected by the troops from Bavaria, Wurtemberg, and 
Baden.” 

“Alas,” sighed the king, “I had a better opinion of my 
Saxons ! They have turned traitors, and my heart will always 
remain inconsolable.” 

“But this is no time for giving way to grief,” said Napo- 


370 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHEK. 


leon. “ Your majesty must leave Leipsic immediately. You 
must not expose yourself to the dangers of a capitulation, 
which, unfortunately, has become unavoidable. Come, sire, 
intrust yourself to my protection. By my side, and in the 
midst of my troops, you will be safe.” 

“No,” said the king, resolutely; “I remain! Let them 
kill me; I am tired of the dangers of flight! But you, sire, 
you must make haste! Leave us! — your precious life must 
not be endangered! Every minute renders the peril more 
imminent! Hasten to preserve yourself to your people, your 
consort, and your son!” 

“ My son!” said Napoleon, and for the first time something 
like an expression of pain flashed over his features. “ Poor 
little King of Borne, from whose blond ringlets his own grand- 
father wants to tear the crown!” He dropped his head on his 
breast. 

“Sire, make haste!” implored the king.— “Make haste!” 
echoed the queen and the princess. 

At this moment there was a terrific roar of artillery. The 
queen buried her face in her hands; the princess had knelt 
again and prayed ; the king leaned his head against the back 
of the chair, pale as a corpse, and with his eyes closed. Napo- 
leon alone stood erect; his face was calm and inscrutable; his 
glances were turned toward the windows, and he seemed to 
listen eagerly to the thunders of war. 

The door was violently opened, and General Caulaincourt 
appeared, pale and breathless. 

“Sire,” he said, “ you must leave ! Bernadotte has taken 
one of the suburbs by assault, and the forces of Blucher, 
Benningsen, and Schwartzenberg, are pouring in on all sides 
into the city, so that our troops are compelled to defend them- 
selves from house to house.” 

“Sire, have mercy! — save yourself!” cried the king. “I 
can no longer help you, no longer support you ! I have noth- 
ing left to give you — nothing but my life, and that is of no 
value ! Save yourself, unless you want me to die at your feet !” 

“Sire,” exclaimed Caulaincourt, “every minute increases 
the danger. A quarter of an hour hence your majesty may, 
perhaps, be unable to get out of the captured city.” 

Napoleon turned with a haughty movement toward his gen- 
eral. “ Nonsense,” he said, “have I not a sword at my side? 
But, as you wish me to go, sire — as you are alarmed, I will 
leave! Farewell! May we meet in happier circumstances!” 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


371 


“ Sire, up there!” said the king, solemnly, pointing toward 
heaven. He then quickly rose from his seat, and approach- 
ing Napoleon, who had taken leave of the queen and the 
princess, took his arm and conducted him hastily out of 
the room, through the corridor, and down the staircase. At 
the foot he stood, and clasping the emperor in his arms, 
whispered, “ Farewell, sire; I feel it is forever! I shall await 
you in heaven! Not another word now, sire! Make haste!” 
He turned, and slowly reascended the staircase. The em- 
peror mounted his horse, and directed his course toward the 
gate of Ranstadt. Behind him rode Berthier, Caulaincourt, 
and a few generals; a mounted escort followed them. 

The streets presented a spectacle of desolation and horror, 
which, the closer they approached the gate, became more 
heart-rending. Field-pieces, caissons, soldiers on foot and on 
horseback, screaming women, wounded and dying cows, 
sheep, and swine, entangled in an enormous mass, made it 
impossible to pass that way. Napoleon turned his horse, and 
took the road to St. Peter’s gate. Slowly, and with perfect 
composure, he rode through Cloister and Burg Streets. Not 
a muscle of his face betrayed any uneasiness or embarrassment; 
it was grave and inscrutable as usual. 

When he arrived at the inner St. Peter’s gate, he found 
the crowd and confusion to be nearly as great as at that of 
Ranstadt; he did not turn his horse, but said, in a loud 
voice, “Clear a passage!” The generals and the mounted 
escort immediately rode forward, and, unsheathing their 
swords and spurring their horses, galloped into the midst of 
the crowd, driving back those who could flee, trampling under 
foot those who did not fall back quick enough, and removing 
the obstacles which obstructed their passage. In five minutes 
a way was cleared for the emperor — the wounded lying on 
both sides, and a few corpses in the middle of the street, 
showed how violently the cortege had penetrated the obstruct- 
ing mass. The emperor took no notice of this; he was silent 
and indifferent, while his escort attacked the crowd, and rode 
on as if nothing had occurred. 

At length the city lay behind him ; he had passed the bridge 
across the Elster, and reached the mill of Lindenau, where 
he intended to establish his headquarters. Constant and 
Roustan had already reached the place with the emperor’s 
carriages, and prepared a room for him. Napoleon rapidly 
stepped into it, and, greeting Constant with a nod, he said, 


372 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Only a little patience! In a week we shall be in Paris, and 
there you shall all have plenty of repose! We shall leave our 
beautiful France no more ! Ah, how the Empress will rejoice, 
and how charming it will be for me again to embrace the little 
King of Rome!” 

It was touching and mournful, indeed, to hear this man, 
usually so cold and reserved, this general who had just lost a 
great battle, speak of his return home and his child in so gentle 
and affectionate a tone, and to see how his rigid features became 
animated under the charm of his recollections, and how the 
faint glimmer of a mournful smile stole upon his lips. But it 
soon disappeared, and, with a sigh, the emperor drooped his 
head. 

“Your majesty ought to try to sleep a little,” said Con- 
stant, in an imploring voice. 

“Yes, sleep!” exclaimed Napoleon. “To sleep is to for- 
get!” 

It was the first, the only complaint which he allowed to 
escape his lips, and he seemed to regret it, for, while he threw 
himself On the field-bed, he cast a gloomy glance on Constant, 
and, as if to prove how easy it was for him to forget, he fell 
asleep in a few minutes. 

From the neighboring city resounded the artillery, indi- 
cating the final struggle of the French and the allies. The 
emperor’s slumber was not disturbed, for the roar of battle 
was too familiar to him. Suddenly, however, there was a 
terrific explosion that shook the earth; the windows of the 
room were shattered to pieces, and the bed on which the 
emperor was reposing was pushed from the wall as if by 
invisible arms. He sprang to his feet and glanced wonder- 
ingly around. “ What was that?” he inquired. “ It was no 
discharge of artillery, it was an explosion!” He quickly left 
the mill and stepped out of the front door. There stood the 
generals, and looked in evident anxiety toward Leipsic. Here 
and there bright flames were bursting from the roofs of the 
houses; one-half of the city was wrapped in clouds of smoke, 
so that it was impossible to distinguish any thing. 

“An explosion has taken place there,” said Napoleon, point- 
ing to that side. 

At this moment several horsemen galloped rapidly toward 
the mill; they were headed by the King of Naples in his 
uniform, decked with glittering orders. A few paces from 
the emperor he stopped his horse and alighted. 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


373 


“ Murat,” shouted the emperor to him, “what has hap- 
pened?” 

“Sire,” he said, “a terrible calamity has occurred. The 
bridge across the Elster, the only remaining passage over the 
river, has been blown up!” 

“And our troops?” cried the emperor. 

“ Sire, the rear-guard, twenty thousand strong, are still on 
the opposite bank, and unable to escape.” 

The emperor uttered a cry, half of pain, half of anger. 
“Ah,” he exclaimed, “this, then, is the way in which my 
orders are carried out ! My God ! twenty thousand brave 
men are lost — hopelessly lost!” He struck both his hands 
against his temples. 

No one dared disturb him; his generals surrounded him, 
silent and gloomy. Presently, some horsemen galloped up ; 
at their head was a general, hatless and in a dripping uniform. 

“Sire, there comes Marshal Macdonald,” exclaimed Murat. 

Napoleon hastened forward to meet the marshal, who had 
just jumped from his horse. 

“ You come out of the water, marshal?” inquired Napo- 
leon, pointing to his wet uniform. 

“ Yes, sire. By swimming my horse across, I have escaped 
to this side of the river, and I come to inform your majesty 
that the troops intrusted to me have perished through no 
fault of mine. Sire, they were twenty thousand strong, and 
I come back alone. I come to lay my life at the feet of your 
majesty.” 

“God be praised that you at least have been preserved,” 
said the emperor, offering his hand to Macdonald. “ But you 
say the troops have perished? Is, then, that impossible for 
the soldiers which was possible for you? Cannot they swim 
across to this side of the river?” 

“ Sire, my escape was almost miraculous. I owe it to my 
horse, who carried me across in the agony of despair ; I owe 
it to God, who, perhaps, wished to preserve a faithful and 
devoted servant to your majesty. But, by my side, no less 
faithful servants were carried away, and, standing on the 
other bank, I saw their corpses drifting along.” 

“Who were they?” asked Napoleon, abruptly, and almost 
in a harsh tone. 

“Sire, General Dumoustier was one; but he is hot the 
victim most to be lamented of this disastrous day. 

“Who is it?” exclaimed the emperor, and, casting around 


374 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


a hasty, anxious glance, he seemed to count his attendants to 
see who was missing. 

“Sire,” said Macdonald, in a trembling voice, “Prince 
Joseph Poniatowsky plunged with his horse into the river — ” 

“And he perished?” cried Napoleon. 

“ Ye s, sire, he did not reach the opposite hank!” 

The emperor buried his face in his hands, and groaned. 
He sat for some time motionless. At length he removed his 
hands from his face, which looked like marble, bloodless and 
cold. 

“And my soldiers?” he inquired. “Did they endeavor to 
escape as Poniatowsky?” 

“Yes, sire! Thousands threw themselves into the river, 
but only a few succeeded in escaping, while the others fell 
into the deep and muddy channel ; and those who were on 
the opposite bank were made prisoners by the allies, who 
are now in possession of the city.” 

“Twenty thousand men lost!” sighed Napoleon, and he 
relapsed into gloomy thought. Presently he raised his head 
again and cast a flaming glance on Macdonald. 

“ Marshal,” he said, “you will investigate this affair in the 
most rigorous manner ; you will give me the name of him who 
has dared to disobey my orders. He is the murderer of 
twenty thousand men! He deserves death, and I shall have 
no mercy on him !” 

“Sire, he stands already before his Supreme Judge! It 
was the corporal charged with applying the match as soon as 
our troops had all passed. He thought he saw the enemy 
advancing upon the bridge, and fired the train, throwing 
himself into the Elster. He is drowned!” 

“It is good for him,” said Napoleon. “ God will deal more 
leniently with him than I should have done. To horse, 
gentlemen, to horse!” He walked slowly and with bowed 
head to his horse, and murmured, “Another Beresina! It 
costs me twenty thousand soldiers!” 

The generals followed him, and as they saw him walking 
with bowed head, they whispered to one another, “ Look at 
him now, how he is broken down! That was his very ap- 
pearance when he returned from Russia! He has no strength 
to bear up under misfortune!” 

While, the emperor and bis suite slowly and mournfully 
took the road to Mark Ranstadt, the allies made their entrance 
into Leipsic. At the head of the procession rode the Em- 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


375 


peror of Russia and the King of Prussia ; behind them fol- 
lowed their brilliant staff, and then came the victorious 
troops, with colors flying and drums beating. The cannon 
still thundered, but louder were the cheers and exultant 
acclamations of the people, who crowded the streets by 
thousands, to receive the sovereigns and the victorious army. 
The windows of the houses were opened, and at them stood 
their inmates with joyful faces, holding white handkerchiefs 
in their hands, with which they waved their greetings. The 
friends — the long-yearned-for friends were there, and they 
received them with tears, exultation, and thanksgiving. 
Merry chimes rang from every steeple, and proclaimed the 
resurrection of Germany. The sovereigns rode to the great 
square; they halted in front of the very house of the King of 
Saxony, but they turned no glance upward to the windows, 
behind the closed blinds of which the unfortunate royal 
family were assembled. The victors seemed to have forgotten 
them. 

The two monarchs alighted, for now came from the other 
side the crown prince of Sweden, Bernadotte, at the head of 
his guards, and through the other street approached the com- 
mander-in-chief of the allies, Prince Schwartzenberg. The 
Russian emperor and the Prussian king advanced into the 
middle of the square, and Bernadotte and Schwartzenberg 
arrived there simultaneously with them. Suddenly, deafen- 
ing cheers rent the air; they drew nearer, and amid these 
acclamations Blucher, at the head of his staff, rode up. 
When he perceived the monarchs, he stopped his horse and 
vaulted with youthful agility from the saddle in order to 
meet them; but the Emperor Alexander, anticipating him, 
was by his side. “God bless you, heroic Blucher!” he ex- 
claimed, affectionately embracing him. “ You have fulfilled 
your promise made at Breslau. You have become the libera- 
tor of Germany. Your brave sword and your intrepid heart 
have conquered. Come, I must conduct you to the King of 
Prussia!” He took Blucher’s arm, and, advancing with him, 
he said, “Sire, I bring you here your hero, Blucher!” 

“You bring me Field-Marshal Blucher!” said the king. 
“ God bless you, field-marshal!” 

“ Sire,” exclaimed Blucher, “you apply to me an honorary 
title — ” . 

“Which you deserve,” interrupted the king. “Do not 
thank me, for, if you do, for conferring a title on you, how 


376 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


shall I thank you, who have given me by far greater honor? 
I know what I owe you, Blucher; your energy, courage, 
determination, and ardor, have gained us the most glorious 
victories!” 

“I have only done my duty, your majesty,” said Blucher. 
“ But I think our work is not half done yet, your majesty ; 
we are to-day in fact only at the commencement of it. It is 
not enough for us to drive the French from Leipsic; we must 
pursue them, and expel them from Germany. For this pur- 
pose we must make haste. We have no time to rest on our 
laurels and sing hymns — the main point is to pursue the 
enemy — pursue him incessantly and effectually.” 

“ Again, the hot-headed madcap, whose fiery spirit believes 
that every thing is done too slowly,” exclaimed the Emperor 
Alexander, smiling. “Now I ask you, as the king asked 
you at Breslau, ‘How old are you?’ — you who never need 
rest, like other poor mortals — myself, for instance? I con- 
fess that, after all this excitement and these long fatigues, I 
am longing for repose, and would not take it amiss if war and 
pursuit were no longer thought of. But you are always intent 
on going forward!” 

“ Sire,” exclaimed the king, who in the mean time had 
conversed with General Sacken, “ I just learn that your troops 
have anticipated me, and given Blucher a title that is far 
better than mine. At the gate of Halle they cheered, and 
called him ‘Marshal Forward!’ ” 

“ Ah, I should like to embrace my soldiers for this excel- 
lent word,” cried Alexander. “That is an honorary title, 
Blucher, which no prince can confer, and which only your 
own merit and the gratitude of the people can bestow. Yes, 
you are ‘Marshal Forward,’ and by that name history will 
know you; and Germany will love, praise, and bless you. 
You have earned this title by your deeds, and the soldiers 
have conferred it upon you as a token of their appreciation. 
Now, the soldiers are a part of the people, and the voice of 
the people is the voice of God. Heaven bless you, ‘Marshal 
Forward!’ ” 

At this moment a procession was approaching from the 
other side of the square, consisting of twenty-four young 
maidens dressed in white. All held wreaths in their hands, 
while the three who headed the procession carried them on 
silken cushions. They approached the emperor, the king, 
and the crown prince of Sweden, and offered them the 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


377 


wreaths.* The emperor took that presented to him, and 
pressed it with a quick and graceful movement on Blucher’s 
head. “I represent the Muse of History,” he said, “and 
crown ‘Marshal Forward’ in a becoming manner.” 

“And I,” said the crown prince of Sweden, handing his 
laurel- wreath to Prince Schwartzenberg, “I present this to 
the commander-in-chief of all our armies, and wish him joy 
of having achieved a victory over which so many nations will 
rejoice, and which will render his name illustrious now and 
forever.” 

“Ah,” cried Schwartzenberg, “I have unfortunately been 
unable to do much. I have only faithfully carried out my 
orders, and it is to them, and to the brave troops, that we are 
indebted for the victory.”! 

The king said nothing; holding his wreath, he looked at 
it gravely and musingly. The presentations were over, and 
the princes prepared to return to their quarters. 

“I hope, sire, we shall all remain together to-day?” re- 
marked Alexander, turning toward the king. 

“Pray excuse me, sire,” said Frederick William, bowing, 
“ I intend to go to Berlin to-night, but I shall be back in a few 
days.” 

“But you, I suppose, will remain?” asked Alexander, 
turning toward Bernadotte. 

“I shall remain, your majesty,” said the crown prince of 
Sweden, with a polite smile. “My troops are in need of 
rest. ” 

“Yes, his troops are always in need of rest,” murmured 
Blucher to himself; “ I believe — ” 

Just then the Emperor Alexander turned toward him. 
“ Well, field-marshal, and you — you will stay, too, will you 
not? I pray you to be my guest to-day.” 

“ Sire, I regret that I cannot accept this gracious invita- 
tion,” said Blucher. “I cannot stay, and my troops, thank 
God! are not in need of rest. I shall start immediately in 
pursuit of the enemy. It is not enough for us to have gained 
a victory; we must also know how to profit by it. I shall 
march this very evening, and take up my quarters for the 
night at Skeuditz.” 

“Marshal Forward! always Marshal Forward!” exclaimed 

* The emperor of Austria did not make his entry with the other monarchs, but 
came only in the afternoon to Leipsic, where he remained scarcely an hour. He 
then returned to Rotha. — Beitzke, vol. ii. .. 

+ Prince Schwartzenberg’s words.— Beitzke, u., 639 

25 


378 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Alexander, smiling. — “Come, sire, let us hasten to dinner ; 
otherwise he will not even permit us to dine, but compel us 
all to set out immediately.” He took the king’s arm, and 
went with him to the horses standing near. When he was 
about to vault into the saddle, he turned toward one of his 
adjutants. “Ah,” he said, “there is another little matter 
which I almost forgot! — General Petrowitch, go up there.” 
He pointed to the house of the King of Saxony. “ Inform 
the king, in my name, that he is a prisoner.* Have a guard 
of thirty men placed in front of the house.” 

On the same evening Blucher rode, by the side of Gneisenau 
and attended by his staff, out of the gate of Leipsic, following 
his troops already on the road to Skeuditz. “Well,” said 
Blucher, smoking his pipe, “ we cannot deny that there has 
been an abundant shower of orders and titles to-day, and that 
we have all been thoroughly drenched. So I am a field- 
marshal now ; the Emperor of Austria has conferred on me 
the order of Maria Theresa; and the Emperor of Russia has 
given me a splendid sword, which I will send as a souvenir to 
my Amelia. And you, Gneisenau, I hope you have also 
received your share?” 

“Why, yes,” said Gneisenau, “I have received titles from 
all the three monarchs. You are right, there was all day a 
perfect shower of them — orders and honors ; and not a general, 
not a dignitary or diplomatist has been forgotten. Count 
Metternich, you know, has been raised by his sovereign to the 
rank of a prince, in acknowledgment of his diplomatic 
services; and Prince Schwartzenberg, already enjoying the 
highest Austrian honors, has received permission to add the 
escutcheon of the Hapsburgs to his coat-of-arms. ” 

“ These two have been in the shower of honors, but very 
little in the shower of balls,” remarked Blucher, laconically. 
“ I wonder what rewards will be conferred on the crown prince 
of Sweden?” 

“ He has already received the highest Prussian, Austrian, 
and Russian orders,” replied Gneisenau, scornfully. “As 
stated before, no one has been forgotten but one ! ” 

“ Who is it?” asked Blucher. “ Who has been forgotten?” 

“ Eield-marshal, one deserving the most honor — one that 
joyfully sacrificed property, blood, and life, who did not de- 
mand any reward, and did every thing for the sake of honor, 
and from love of country, and for the princes.” 

* Beitzke, vol. ii., p. 652 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


379 


“What!” cried Blucher, angrily. “The monarchs have 
forgotten to reward such a one?” 

“Yes, field-marshal, they have! This one is the people, 
the German people! — the noble, enthusiastic people, who 
joyously and generously shed their blood for the deliverance 
of the fatherland, whose mothers and wives allowed their 
sons and husbands exultingly to march into the field, and 
made themselves sisters of charity for the wounded and sick ; 
whose men and youths did not hesitate to leave their houses, 
their families, their property, their business, but readily took 
up arms to deliver the fatherland ; whose aged men became 
young, whose children transformed themselves into youths, 
to participate in the holy struggle — all these, the great, noble 
German people, have received no reward, and not even a 
promise!” 

“But, Gneisenau, how strange you are!” said Blucher, 
drawing his mustache through his fingers. “ The monarchs 
have rewarded those whom they were able to reward. How 
can they reward the people? What could they do?” 

“ They could bestow on them more liberty, more indepen- 
dence and honor,” said Gneisenau, “by giving them the con- 
stitution which the King of Prussia promised to his people 
in his manifesto of the 17th of March.” 

“Yes, that is true,” said Blucher, thoughtfully. “Well, 
Stein is present, and he will surely remind the king of what 
he ought to do. He is a patriot and a true man!” 

“ Yes, but he is alone,” said Gneisenau, mournfully. “ His 
voice will die away like that of the preacher in the desert. 
You will see, field-marshal, these promises will soon be for- 
gotten !” 

“Well,” exclaimed Blucher, “we shall see. For the time 
being let us rejoice that we have fought the great battle of 
the nations, and that Napoleon’s doom is sealed now. It is 
all-important for us to finish him quickly and without mercy. 
You know my battle-cry: ‘He must be dethroned!’ — Oh, 
pipe-master! Another pipe, this one does not burn.” 

As Napoleon and Blucher left Leipsic on the 19th of 
October, King Frederick William set out from the city for 
Berlin to rejoice with his people, and to thank God for the 
victory. All Berlin received the king with exultation, and 
the 20th of October was a day of universal joy. Germany 
was free, and this conviction transported every heart, and 
every one wished to greet the king. Thousands surrounded 


380 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER 


the royal palace at Berlin all day, and whenever the king ap- 
peared at the windows or on the balcony, they saluted him 
with cheers and waving of hats and handkerchiefs. Multi- 
tudes thronged toward the cathedral, to thank God for the 
glorious victory vouchsafed to them. In every house were 
festivities in honor of the great battle of the nations fought 
at Leipsic. 

But during this universal exultation the king left Berlin, 
without his suite, attended only by his old friend, General 
Kockeritz, and rode to Charlottenburg. No notice was 
taken of the unpretending equipage, drawn by two horses, 
destitute of escutcheons and liveries, which drove out of the 
Brandenburg gate, and the king reached Charlottenburg 
without being recognized. He did not, however, enter the 
palace, but ordered Kockeritz to fetch the castellan, that he 
might open the vault of the royal tomb; then, wrapping his 
cloak closer about him, under which he seemed to conceal 
something, he trod the dark path leading to the mausoleum. 
He paced the gloomy avenue of cypress and pines with a slow 
step, absorbed in deep reflection. Holy peace surrounded 
him — not a sound of the people’s joy reached him — naught 
disturbed the silence, save some gentle breeze that rustled the 
foliage, and as a spirit-voice greeted the king’s return. The 
recollections of other days, with all their troubles, came to 
him, and revived the painful emotions of the past. He had 
suffered so much, and alone! And as he had been alone in 
his affliction, he was now alone in his prosperity. No one 
was with him at this holy hour to understand his heart, ex- 
cept her whose spirit he believed to be always near him. 
Grief for the humiliation of her country occasioned her 
death ; joy and pride in the victory of her country would, if 
possible, have reawakened her from the dead. 

The king slowly walked toward the mausoleum. The 
door was open, and he entered softly. He looked around to 
assure himself that he was alone, and that no strange eyes 
desecrated this devout pilgrimage. He took off his cloak, and 
that which he had borne under it was no longer hidden. It 
was the laurel-wreath presented on the preceding day at 
Leipsic. With this crown of victory in his hand he ap- 
proached the black sarcophagus in which reposed all that was 
mortal of Louisa! Bending over it, he kissed the place 
beneath which her head rested, and laid down the wreath.* 

* Eylert, “ Characterztige ausdem Leben Friedrich Wilhelm III.,” vol. ii.,p. 162. 


THE NINETEENTH OF OCTOBER. 


381 


“Take it, Louisa,” he murmured. “It belongs to you! 
Your spirit was with us, and led us to victory. Oh, why did 
you leave me? Why are you not with me in the days of 
prosperity as in the days of adversity? I have seen your 
beautiful eyes shed many tears, but now I cannot see them 
brighten with joy. I can hear no more your sweet voice, 
your merry laughter! I am alone!” He leaned his hands on 
the sarcophagus, and, pressing his head on the laurel-wreath, 
shed abundant tears. After a long pause, he rose and sup- 
pressed his grief. “Farewell, my Louisa,” he said. “I 
know that you are with me, and that your love accompanies 
me! Farewell!” Casting a parting glance on his wife’s 
tomb, the king left the sacred cell, and walked slowly toward 
the palace through the shadowy and silent avenue of the 
cypress-trees. 


HANNIBAL ANTE POBTAS. 


CHAPTER XL. 
blucher’s birthday. 

Two months had elapsed since the great battle of Leipsic, 
during which, to Blucher’s unbounded despair, much had 
been spoken, much negotiated, many schemes devised, but 
nothing done. Owing to the slowness of the allies, Napoleon 
had succeeded, aside from some unfortunate engagements 
during the retreat, in safely returning with the remnant of 
his army to France ; and this dilatory system of the allies 
seemed to be constantly adopted. The armies advanced 
slowly, or not at all. For weeks the headquarters had been 
at Frankfort-on-the-Main. There were the Emperor of Russia, 
the King of Prussia, the crown prince of Sweden, and Prince 
Schwartzenberg as representative of the Emperor of Austria, 
besides Metternich and Hardenberg, and the whole army of 
diplomatists, who deemed it incumbent on them to put an 
end with their pens to this war which the swords of the 
generals had concluded by a victory. The peace party were 
incessantly intent on gaining the allies at headquarters over 
to their side, and the crown prince of Sweden and Prince 
Metternich stood at their head. Bernadotte cautioned the 
allies against the dangers in which an invasion of France 
would involve them; Metternich deemed it more advisable 
for them to conclude an advantageous peace with the angry 
lion Napoleon. Blucher kept murmuringly away from the 
headquarters, and stayed with his stalf at Ilochst, near his 
troops. 

It was the 16 tli of December. The field-marshal was alone 
in his room, and sat on the sofa, in his comfortable military 
cloak, smoking his morning pipe. Before him lay a map of 
Germany, on which he fixed his eyes, and across which he 
eagerly moved his fingers from time to time, drawing lines 
here and there, and apparently conceiving plans of operation. 


BLUCHER’S BIRTHDAY. 


383 


The door opened, and Pipe-Master Hennemann walked in. — • 
In full gala-uniform, holding both hands behind him, he 
stood at the door, hoping that his field-marshal would see 
and ask him what he wanted. But Blucher did not look up; 
he was absorbed in studying his map. Christian Hennemann, 
therefore, ventured to interrupt him. “Field-marshal,” he 
said, in a low and timid voice, “ I — •” 

“ Well, what do you want, Christian?” asked Blucher, 
lifting his eyes from the map. “ What is the matter? Why 
do you wear your gala-uniform, and look as if you were about 
to go on parade? Have you become a Catholic in this Catholic 
country, Christian, and are you celebrating a saint’s holiday?” 

“Yes, field -marshal,” said Christian, resolutely stepping 
forward, “ I am celebrating the holiday of my saint, and his 
name is Blucher!” 

“He is a queer saint,” cried Blucher, laughing. “But 
what does it all mean, Christian?” 

“It means, field-marshal, that this is your birthday, and 
that you are seventy-one years old to-day.” 

“That is true,” said Blucher to himself. “My birthday! 

I had given strict orders not to celebrate it, and I had for- 
gotten it myself!” 

“ But no one can prevent me from celebrating it, your 
excellency!” exclaimed Christian. “That would be very 
pretty, if I could not congratulate my ‘ Marshal Forward ’ 
on his birthday. Long live my field-marshal! And may 
God spare him many years to us yet, that we may catch 
Bonaparte at Paris j for, if ‘Marshal Forward ’ does not do it, 
no one will J” 

“Yes, if they would only let me!” cried Blucher, striking 
with his hand on the table; “ but they will not! I am sitting 
here like a pug-dog in a deal box, and Bonaparte stands out- 
side ; I can only bark — I cannot bite him, for they will not 
let me out.” 

“They will have to, your excellency,” said Hennemann, 
quickly, “and before many pipes are smoked. But I would 
request your excellenc}^ to be so kind as to smoke this pipe.” „ 
He drew forth his right hand, which he had held behind him, 
and produced a short pipe, neatly adorned with a rose-colored 
ribbon terminating in a rosette with two long ends. “ Field- 
marshal,” he said, “in return for all the favors you have 
conferred on me, a poor boy, and for having made me, a 
stupid peasant-lad, pipe-master of the famous Field-Marshal 


384 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Blucher, I take the liberty of presenting you witli this short 
pipe.” And making a polite obeisance, he handed it to the 
general, who took it smilingly, and was about to reply, but 
Christian added, in a louder voice, “ But your excellency 
must not think that this is a common pipe. In the first 
place, it is not made of clay.” 

“No,” said Blucher, contemplating it; “the small tube is 
made of wood, and mounted with silver, sure enough; the 
bowl is carved out of wood, too, and there is another bowl 
inside.” 

“But it is no common wood, your excellency,” said 
Christian, solemnly. “You remember that I requested a 
furlough immediately after the battle of Leipsic, and said I 
would go home, see my dear Mecklenburg again, and visit 
my brothers and sisters. Well, that was not my principal 
object ; there was another reason why I wanted to go. I have 
never forgotten what my General Blucher said when I first 
came to him, and what he told us of his mutting — that he 
still loved her. Well, I thought it would gladden the field- 
marshal’s heart to have a little souvenir of his mother. And, 
therefore, I wended my way to Rastow, where my dear field- 
marshal’s mother is buried. I went to her grave, said my 
prayers, and then cut off a branch from the linden which 
stands on her grave. Like every other son of Mecklenburg, 
you ought to have a souvenir of your mutting. Here it is. 
The tube and the bowl of the pipe I carved out of the branch 
cut from the linden, and, that you might know what it is, I 
cut these letters in the wood. Read, sir.” 

“Sure enough, there are letters on it,” cried Blucher. 
“ They say ‘ Souvenir of Mutting ! ’ ” 

“Yes, that it is,” said Christian; “you know, with us, 
those who love their mother call her as you did, and there- 
fore I offer you this souvenir.” 

“Christian,” said Blucher, in a tremulous voice, “ that was 
well done, and I can tell you that you give me great joy, and 
that I shall not forget your kindness. This shall be my gala- 
pipe, and I will smoke it on gala-days only, that is to say, 
when we go into battle. I thank you a thousand times, 
Christian, my boy, and if my dear mutting has not forgotten 
me, she will look down upon her boy to-day, who is seventy-one 
years old, and it will gladden her to know that he has now a 
memorial of her — and from her grave! You were on her 
grave, then, Christian? How does it look?” 


BLUCHER’S BIRTHDAY. 


385 


“ It was decked witli flowers, your excellency, and finches 
and larks were chirping in the large linden overshadowing it. 
The old grave-digger told me the linden had been planted 
on the day when Madame von Blucher was buried, and it 
was quite a small twig at that time.” 

“Yes, that is the course of things,” said Blucher, mourn- 
fully ; “ when I saw my mother last, she was a handsome lady, 
and I was a boy of sixteen. I have not felt that so many 
years have elapsed since then, and I feel myself still as active 
as a lad. But they tell me I am decrepit, and that there is 
but a step between me and the grave.” 

“ Well, I should like to see the giant who could cross that 
step,” cried Christian; “ a hundred thousand French corpses 
and Bonaparte’s overturned throne lie in that step between 
you and the grave.” 

Blucher laughed. “You are a good boy, pipe-master, and 
in honor of you I will smoke the new pipe to-day. Fill and 
light it; I will — who knocks there? — Open the door, Chris- 
tian.” 

“ It is I, your excellency,” said General Gneisenau, who 
entered the room. “ You must not refuse to see me. It is 
true, you have forbidden any celebration, serenade, or con- 
gratulation ; but you must not turn me from your door ; for you 
know that I love you like a son, and therefore you must 
permit me to come and wish myself joy that Field-Marshal 
Blucher still lives for the welfare of Germany.” 

Blucher kindly shook hands with him. “ Would that you 
were right, Gneisenau, and that I really lived for the welfare 
of Germany! But the gentlemen at headquarters need me 
no longer. I am once more a nuisance and a stumbling-block 
— I am, according to them, the old madcap again — the rash 
hussar, just because I shout, ‘We must advance upon Paris!’ 
while the triibsalsspritzen * are croaking all the time, ‘We 
must make peace! If we go to France, we are lost!’ Gnei- 
senau, if this state of affairs goes on for any length of time, 
this will be my last birthday, for I shall die of anger. I know 
if we make peace, the blood shed has been in vain, and our 
victories in vain; and in a few years, when he has recovered 
from his losses, Bonaparte will commence the same game, 
and we shall have to pass through the same series of disastrous 
events. But they are destitute of courage. Bernadotte does 

* A favorite expression of Blucher when he alluded to the timid diplomatists who 
advised the allies to make peace with Napoleon. 


386 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


not want us to hurt the French, and the Emperor of Austria 
desires to spare his dear son-in-law, and they are besieging 
our king and the Emperor Alexander in such a vigorous 
manner, that they are at a loss what to do.” 

“And what should we be here for?” inquired Gneisenau, 
smiling. “ What would Field-Marshal Blucher be here for, 
if we do not march forward? No, the gentlemen who are 
so desirous of making peace are greatly mistaken if they 
believe that they are able to set at naught our successes, and 
that it depends on their will only to make peace or war. 
The wheel that is to crush Napoleon is in motion, and no 
human hand can arrest it. Let the triibsolsspritzen , as your 
excellency says, croak : public opinion in Germany and 
throughout Europe speaks louder, and it clamors for war, 
and we shall have it. For this reason your excellency ought 
not to despond, nor prevent us from celebrating your birth- 
day in a worthy manner. Your whole army longs to present 
its congratulations to you, and the officers of York’s corps, 
who intended to give your excellency a ball to-night, and had 
so confidently counted upon your consent that they had 
already made all arrangements, are in despair because you 
did not accept their invitation. General York himself is 
quite vexed at your refusal, and thinks you decline because 
you do not wish to meet him.” 

“I do not care if he is vexed, old curmudgeon that he 
is!” cried Blucher. “He must always have something to 
grumble at, and has often enough said very hard things 
about me. Let him do so again, for aught I care! I shall, 
nevertheless, not go to the ball. What should I do there? 
Merry I cannot be, for my indignation almost stifles my 
heart, and, instead of smiling on people, I would rather show 
them my fist. Ah, Gneisenau, men are mean and contempt- 
ible, after all, and those at headquarters are the most despic- 
able! They want peace! Do you comprehend that, Gnei- 
senau — peace! now that we are on the road to Paris, and 
only need make up our minds to destroy the power of our 
enemy! Oh, it is enough to make a fellow swear! To the 
gallows with all the trilbsalsspritzen ! — all the old women who 
are wearing uniforms, and who, in place of cocked hats, 
should rather put nightcaps on their heads!” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Gneisenau, smiling, “should they do so, 
your excellency would tear off their nightcaps, and forcibly 
put their hats again on their heads. And as for the old 


BLUCHER’S BIRTHDAY. 


387 


women, Blucher, the young hero, will in the end rout them 
all, and drive them from the field.” 

“ Ah, Gneisenau, if I succeed in doing so, then I should be 
young again, and live to see still many a birthday,” sighed 
Blucher. “ I have conceived every thing so clearly and well 
—the whole plan of the campaign was already settled in my 
mind! Come, Gneisenau, let me show you all on the map, 
and then you will have to admit that Napoleon would be 
annihilated if we could carry this plan into execution. Come, 
look at the map!” 

Gneisenau stood by the side of the field-marshal, and bent 
over the map lying on the table. 

“See,” said Blucher, eagerly, “here is Paris, here is the 
Rhine, and here are we; farther below — ” 

“But, your excellency,” interrupted Gneisenau, surprised, 
“ you have a very old and poor map ; it is impossible to base 
any strategic plans on it.” 

“How so?” asked Blucher, in amazement. 

“ Because this map is certainly incorrect, your excellency ; 
we have entirely new and very accurate maps now, made 
from the latest surveys.” 

“Ah, what do I care for your surveys?” cried Blucher, 
impatiently. “ By your surveys, I suppose, you cannot dis- 
place the countries, cities, and rivers? Paris remains where 
it is, the Rhine flows where it has always flowed, and behind 
the Rhine lies Germany, where it has always lain?” 

“ Yes, but you will not find on this map the towns, villages, 
forests, rivers, and hills, which you will meet on your advance, 
and which, if not taken into consideration, might prove 
formidable obstacles.” 

“ What do I care for the towns, villages, forests, rivers, 
and hills?” replied Blucher: “I advance all the time, and 
that says every thing. In the towns and villages I shall 
cause my troops to take up their quarters; through the 
forests we shall cut a road if there is none; we shall build 
bridges across the rivers, and run over the tops of the moun- 
tains; if the field-pieces cannot be hauled over them, we shall 
take them around the base. The most important thing is, 
that we advance, and I am quite able to consider that on my 
map here.— Now, then! here is Paris. Put your finger on 
Paris, Gneisenau.” The general obeyed, and pressed the tip 
of his forefinger on the spot indicated. “ And here, cried 
Blucher, pressing his own finger on the map, “here are we, 


388 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the Silesian army. Between ns lies the Rhine. Put yonr 
other finger on the Rhine, Gneisenau.” Gneisenau put his 
middle-finger on the black line marking the Rhine. “Now 
put your little-finger down here, between Mannheim and 
Kehl; there stands the army of Bohemia under Prince 
Schwartzenberg; and up here, where I hold my thumb, in 
Holland, is Bulow, with his corps. See, on this side, we 
have therefore completely hemmed in France; and, on the 
other side, where the Atlantic Ocean is — or is it no longer 
there on your new-fangled maps?” 

“Yes, your excellency,” exclaimed Gneisenau, laughing, 
“ it is still there.” 

“Well, then, England posts her ships there; and in the 
south, on the Pyrenees, stand the Spaniards, who have sworn 
to revenge themselves on Bonaparte. Now we advance all at 
the same time into France. Prince Schwartzenberg penetrates 
with his army through Switzerland ; Bulow marches through 
the Netherlands, after conquering them, and joins my forces; 
and I cross the Rhine here in three large columns with the 
Silesian army — the first column at Mannheim, the second 
at Kaub, and the third — well, now I have no finger left 
to—” 

“Here is mine, your excellency,” said Gneisenau, raising 
the finger marking the line of the Rhine. 

But Blucher hastily pressed it down. “ Do not remove 
that!” he cried; “ what is to become of my whole plan if that 
finger should desert its position? Keep it there, then! — 
Well, here, where I hold my left thumb, at Coblentz, the 
third column will cross the Rhine. On the other bank we 
shall all unite, take Sarrebruck, advance by forced marches 
upon Metz, and — ” 

“ Your excellency,” shouted the pipe-master, throwing open 
the door, “ a courier from the King of Prussia, from Frank- 
fort-on-the-Main !” 

“ Let him come in!” cried Blucher, hastily throwing off his 
military cloak, and putting on his uniform-coat. He had 
not yet quite done so when the courier entered the room. 

“ What orders do you bring from my king and master?” 
inquired Blucher, meeting the officer. 

“Your excellency, his majesty King Frederick William 
III., and his majesty the Emperor Alexander, request Field- 
Marshal Blucher to repair immediately to Frankfort, where 
the monarchs have an important communication to make to 


PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 


389 


the field-marshal. They wish your excellency to start forth- 
with, in order to reach Frankfort as soon as possible.” 

“ Inform their majesties that I shall be there in two hours. 
— Well, Gneisenau, what do you say now?” asked Blucher, 
when the courier left the room. 

“ I say that the monarchs have at length discovered who 
alone can give them efficient assistance and valuable advice, 
and that they have, therefore, applied to Field-Marshal 
Blucher.” 

“And I tell you,” shouted Blucher, in a thundering voice, 
“ that the monarchs send for me to inform me that we are 
to face about and go home. If it were any thing else, they 
would have sent me word by an officer; but, as it is, they are 
afraid lest I grow furious, and so they intend to inform me 
in the mildest possible manner of their decision, and wish to 
pat my cheeks tenderly while telling me of it. But they 
mistake; I shall tell them the truth, as I would any one else, 
and they shall see that it is all the same to me whether they 
have a crown on their heads or a forage-cap ; the truth must 
out, and they shall hear it, as sure as my name is Blucher! 
But I must dress for the occasion — it shall be a gala-day for 
me. With my orders on my breast, and the emperor’s sword 
of honor at my side, I will appear before them and tell 
them the truth.” 


CHAPTER X LI . 

PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 

The Emperor Alexander and King Frederick William were 
in the king’s cabinet, awaiting Field-Marshal Blucher, for 
the courier had just returned and reported that the field- 
marshal promised to be at Frankfort within two hours. 

“The two hours have just elapsed,” said Alexander, glanc- 
ing at the clock, “ and Blucher, who is known to be a very 
punctual man, will undoubtedly soon be here. Ah, there 
is a carriage; it is he, no doubt!” 

“Yes, it is he,” said the king, who had stepped to the 
window, and was looking out. “ He is alighting with the 
nimbleness of a youth, in spite of his seventy-one years. 
He is really a hero!” 

“ And will your majesty be so kind as to enter into my 
jest? Will you assist me in it, and confirm my words?” 


390 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Certainly, sire; but I tell you, beforehand, our jest may 
render the old firebrand very grave, and we may happen to 
get a scolding.” 

“That is just what I am longing for,” replied the emperor, 
smiling. “ Old Blucher’s scolding is wholesome, and invig- 
orates the heart; it is a new and vital air which his words 
breathe upon me. It is flattering to be scolded for once like 
a common mortal.” 

“Well, if you desire that, sire,” said the king, smiling, 
“Blucher will certainly aft'ord you this pleasure to-day.” 

The door opened ; a footman entered and announced Field- 
Marshal Blucher. The two monarchs met him. Both shook 
hands with him, and bade him welcome with great cordiality. 
This, however, instead of gladdening Blucher, filled him with 
distrust. 

“They pat me, because they want to scratch me,” said 
Blucher to himself, “but they shall not fool me!” His fea- 
tures assumed a defiant expression, and a dark cloud covered 
his brow. 

“To-day is your birthday, field-marshal,” said the king; 
“ that is the reason we have sent for you ; we desired to con- 
gratulate you in person. You have passed through a year of 
heroism, and the new one cannot bring you nobler laurels 
than those you have already.” 

“Ah, your majesty, T believe it might after all,” said 
Blucher, quickly. “ The laurels growing in France are the 
noblest of all; that is why I should like to gather them.” 

“Ah! the Emperor Napoleon will not suffer it,” said Alex- 
ander. “ He values them too highly, and it is not advisable 
for us to seek them, for he is not the man to allow us to take 
what belongs to him.” 

“ But he was the very man to take a great many things that 
did not belong to him,” cried Blucher, vehemently. 

“That which did not belong to him we have taken again, 
and have satisfied the ends of justice,” said the king, gravely. 

“No, we have not satisfied the ends of justice,” cried 
Blucher. “ It is justice if we march to Paris — to take all 
from him whom your majesties still call the Emperor Napo- 
leon, but who, in my eyes, is nothing but an infamous tyrant, 
presumptuous enough to put a crown on his head, and ascend 
a throne to which he has no right whatever, and who, more- 
over, has treated us Germans as though we were his slaves. 
Ay, it is justice if we take from the robber of kingdoms, the 


PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 


391 


braggart winner of battles, all that he has appropriated, and 
send him back to Corsica. That would be justice, your maj- 
esty; and if it is not administered, it is a morbid generosity 
that prevents it, and which is utterly out of place in regard to 
him.” 

The emperor cast a glance full of indescribable satisfaction 
on the king, who responded to it with a gentle nod. 

“ My dear Blucher,” said Alexander, kindly, “you have not 
. yet permitted me to wish you joy of your birthday. God 
bless you, my dear field-marshal, and may this year bring us 
the peace and repose which one so much needs after the ex- 
posures of campaign life, and especially when he is seventy- 
one years old!” 

“ I do not know whether I am as old as that,” said Blucher, 
indignantly ; “ I know only that I am by no means desirous 
of repose, but rather deem it a great misfortune just now.” 

The emperor seemed not to have heard him, but continued 
quietly: “Yes, certainly, my dear field-marshal, you need 
retirement; at your venerable age we should not subject our- 
selves to such prolonged fatigues in the field.” 

“Besides, I am sure you wish peace, like the rest of us,” 
said the king, who saw that the veins on Blucher ’s forehead 
were swelling, and who wished to forestall too violent a reply. 
“We have reflected a long while how we might give you a 
pleasant surprise on your birthday, but it was difficult for us. 
You have already all the orders and honor we can bestow; you 
are blessed with riches, and we have found it difficult to make 
you a present worthy of the respect and love we entertain for 
you.” 

“ But his majesty the king has resolved to give you some- 
thing which tvill gladden your noble heart. Field-marshal, 
we give you peace as a birthday present! We have resolved 
to make peace with Napoleon; and to-day, on your birthday, 
the conditions, which, you know, have for a long time past 
formed the subject of secret negotiations, are to be signed. 
The Emperor Napoleon has declared his readiness to accept 
them, and, therefore, there are no further obstacles to the 
cessation of war.” 

“To-morrow our troops will set out for home,” said the 
king. “ The requirements of honor and duty have been satis- 
fied ; the welfare and prosperity of our subjects demand peace. 
You, my dear field-marshal, have been selected to direct the 
retreat of the troops. Conformably to the wishes of his maj- 


392 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


esty the Emperor Alexander, and his royal highness the 
crown prince of Sweden, I appoint you commander-in-chief 
of all the retreating troops. The generals will have strictly 
to comply with your orders; and, just as Prince Schwartzen- 
berg was general-in-chief of the advance, you, field-marshal, 
are general-in-chief of the retreat. Confiding in your energy, 
sagacity, and zeal, we hope that you will conduct the retreat 
satisfactorily, and the men will reach their homes as soon as 
possible. You are now, therefore, commander-in-chief; that 
is your birthday gif t, and we hope you will be content with it.” 

“No,” cried Blucher, drawing a deep breath, and unable 
longer to restrain his anger, “I am not content with it — not 
at all ; and I must say that I do not wish this appointment, 
which seems to me a disgrace. General-in-chief of the re- 
treating armies ! I should like to ask his majesty the Emperor 
of Russia why his soldiers have given me the honorary title of 
‘Marshal Forward,’ if I am now to be ‘General-in-chief Back- 
ward?’ If your majesty has given me the golden-sheathed 
sword only for the purpose of wearing it on parade, I do not 
want it. Sire, here it is; I lay it down at your feet with due 
respect. Your majesty, you desired to give it to the general- 
in-chief of the retreating troops, and that I am not, and can- 
not be!” He hastily unbuckled his sword, and laid it on the 
table beside the emperor. 

“And why can you not?” asked Alexander, composedly. 

“ Because I cannot disgrace my honest name by doing dis- 
honest things,” cried Blucher, vehemently. 

“Blucher, you forget yourself,” said the king, almost 
sternly; “your words are too strong.” 

“Yes, your majesty, I know that they are strong,” ex- 
claimed Blucher; “but the truth is strong, too; I must re- 
lieve myself of it; I can no longer keep it back, and, the truth 
is, that it would be a shame and a stupidity if we retreat with- 
out reconquering, on the left bank of the Rhine, that which 
we were obliged to cede to France. Your majesties have 
said that the requirements of honor and justice are satisfied. 
Permit me to reply that this is not so, and cannot be, if we 
retreat; for we show that we are still distrusting our own 
power, and, notwithstanding our superior army, deem our- 
selves too weak to attack the man who has been attacking us 
for nearly twenty years, and to whom nothing was sacred, 
whether treaties, or rights of property, or nationality. No, 
the requirements of justice are not satisfied if we face about 


PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 


393 


now and consider the frontiers of France more sacred than 
the French have ever considered the frontiers of Germany. 
Bonaparte has as yet Holland, a piece of Germany, and Italy, 
and he says he will not yield a single village which he has con- 
quered, though the enemy stand on the heights of Paris. It 
would but be right for us to march to that city, and compel 
him to disgorge, not merely a village, but all that he has 
taken. And if this be not done, if the peace-croakers attain 
their object, a cry of disappointment and anger will bu forth 
throughout Europe, and the nations, lifting their hands to 
God, will curse the pussillanimity and weakness of their 
princes. They would be justified in doing so ; for it was not 
for this that brave men, at the first call of their king, left 
their families; it was not for this that they sacrificed their 
property on the altar of the fatherland. The women did not 
become nurses and sisters of charity, nor did their husbands 
and sons shed their blood, that only one great battle might be 
gained over Bonaparte, and that he then might be allowed 
leisurely to evacuate Germany. We did not even pursue him, 
but marched slowly, while he safely wended his way to the 
Rhine. And now he is to remain quietly in France! The 
world is to receive no satisfaction, and the tyrant is not to 
be punished! If that he right and just, well — no matter! I 
am an old soldier, and am not versed in the tricks of diplo- 
matists! Nor do I care to be versed in them ! They know 
how to manage matters so insidiously that at last they con- 
vert wrong into right — falsehood into truth, and disguise 
their cowardice in such a manner that it looks like wisdom. 
The only thing I understand is, that I am no more of any use, 
and I request your majesty to give me my discharge as a 
birthday present — be so kind as to grant it immediately. I 
am much too young to become General-in-chief Backward, 
and it is, therefore, better for me to stand aside, and let others 
take the command of the retreating troops. Your majesties 
will graciously pardon me if I take the liberty of withdrawing. ” 
He bowed with respect and turned quickly toward the door. 

“But why in such haste?” asked the king. “Pray stay; I 
have not yet granted your discharge.” 

“ But your majesty, I know, will grant it, and I consider 
you have already done so. I beg leave to withdraw.” 

“But stay!” exclaimed Alexander. 

“Pardon me, your majesty, I must go!” 

“Why? Tell us honestly the truth, field-marshal.” 

26 


394 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Well,” said Blucher, standing at the door, “ if jour majesty 
orders me to tell the truth, I will do so. I must go, because 
I cannot endure it here; I must find some place where I may 
give vent to my rage, and, by a vast amount of swearing, re- 
lieve my heart.” 

“What!” cried Alexander, laughing. “Your heart is still 
oppressed?” 

“Yes, your majesty, what I have said is as nothing,” re- 
plied Blucher, in a melancholy tone ; “ those words were only 
as a few rain-drops; the whole violence of my anger, with its 
thunder, lightning, hail, and storm, is still in my heart, and 
may God have mercy on him on whom it will burst! Your 
majesties may see that it is high time for me to withdraw.” 

“ Otherwise, you think, the thunder-storm might burst 
here?” inquired Alexander, smiling. 

“I am afraid so, sire,” replied Blucher, gravely. 

“Perhaps it may be allayed, however,” said Frederick 
William, approaching Blucher. “ You have determined, 
then, not to accept the position offered you?” 

“I demand at once my discharge, your majesty; my dis- 
charge !” 

“ You do not wish to be commander-in-chief of the retreat- 
ing troops?” asked Alexander. 

“My name is ‘Marshal Forward!’” said Blucher, proudly. 

“And it is your firm belief, field-marshal,” asked the king, 
“ that it would be neither just nor honorable for the allies now 
to make peace and go home?” 

“ Your majesty, it is — it is my. earnest conviction, and I 
shall never be able to change it.” 

“ Well, then,” said Alexander turning toward the king, “is 
not your majesty, too, of the opinion that it would be advan- 
tageous for us to allow ourselves to be directed by the views 
and convictions of so brave and experienced a general? Do 
you not believe that we owe it to him, in consideration of the 
distinguished services which he has performed, to believe him, 
the brave soldier, rather than the tricky diplomatists?” 

“ I have no doubt of it,” said the king, smiling, “ and I con- 
fess that all that the field-marshal has told us has greatly 
modified my views, and induced me to adopt another course. 
If Blucher insists that, in order to satisfy the requirements of 
honor and justice, we should not now make peace, I believe 
him.” 

“ And if he has insurmountable objections to being called 


PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 


395 


Marshal Backward,” exclaimed the emperor, merrily, “well, 
then, he must retain the name my soldiers have given him.” 

“But, your majesty,” cried Blucher, who listened with 
amazement, “what means all this?” 

“It means,” said the king, putting his hand on Blucher’s 
shoulder, “ it means that I cannot grant you the discharge 
which you have requested, because I need your services more 
than ever.” 

“ It means,” said the emperor, putting his hand on Blucher’s 
other shoulder, “ that Marshal Forward is the very man we 
need at this juncture. For, in spite of all ministers, diplo- 
matists, and peace-croakers (I thank you for that word) , we 
have determined to carry on the war to the best of our 
power.” 

Blucher uttered a cry of joy, and lifting up his large eyes, 
he exclaimed: “Good Heaven, I thank Thee, with all my 
heart; for the day is dawning now, and we shall soon see how 
the sun shines in Paris!” 

“ You did not wish to be commander-in-chief of the retreat- 
ing army,” said the king, kindly; “let us appoint you, then, 
second general-in-chief of the advancing army.” 

“How so? I do not understand that,” said Blucher, be- 
wildered. “ That is to say, I remain general-in-chief of my 
Silesian army?” 

“ Yes, but with enlarged power and independence, and with 
a greater number of troops. Your corps has suffered a great 
deal; on your victorious fields of Mockern and Leipsic you 
lost many brave soldiers. Your ranks need filling up, in order 
that you may act vigorously and energetically. Therefore, 
three new corps will be added to your forces * — a Prussian 
corps under General Kleist, a Hessian corps under the crown 
prince of Hesse, and a mixed corps under the Duke of Saxe- 
Coburg, the whole amounting to about fifty thousand fresh 
soldiers. With these reenforcements, added to your own 
eighty-five thousand men, you will be at the head of an army 
with which great things may be accomplished, and with which 
I believe you may gather your laurels in France.” 

“Moreover,” said Alexander, kindly, “you will hereafter 
not be responsible to any other commander. We shall consider 
jointly with you all operations of the war, and the whole plan of 
the campaign, and lay before you all general communications. 
Prince Schwartzenberg will always keep you well instructed of 

* Varnhagcn von Ense, “ Biography of Prince Blucher of Wahlstatt,” p. 205. 


396 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the movements of the grand army, and only request you to 
inform him of those you deem it best for the Silesian army to 
make in cooperation with the former.* You will, therefore, 
be entirely at liberty to carry your own plans into execution, 
and will have only to report to Schwartzenberg and to us what 
you are doing. Are you now content, Blucher?” 

“ Do you still demand your discharge as a birthday present?” 
inquired the king. 

“ You ask me whether I am content, or demand my dis- 
charge?” cried Blucher, cheerfully. “Now that we advance, 
I would not take my discharge, and should your majesty give 
it to me, to punish me for my unseemly conduct, ' I would 
secretly accompany the army and fight in the ranks ; for you 
ought to know that I do not advocate a vigorous prosecution 
of the war on account of the honor it might reflect on me, 
but for the rights of all Germany ; and for this reason I am 
not only content, but I thank Heaven, my king, and the Em- 
peror Alexander, from the bottom of my heart ; and especially 
for the great confidence you place in me. This is the most 
flattering of all the honors you have lavished upon me, and I 
shall endeavor with head and arm to render myself worthy of it. 
I shall always remember that my king intrusted me with the 
sacred mission of blotting out the disgrace of Jena, and of 
causing our angel, Queen Louisa, who shed so many tears for 
us on earth, to rejoice in heaven over our deeds — and — ” his 
words choked his utterance, his eyes grew dim ; pressing his 
hand to them with a quivering movement, he said, in a stifled 
voice, “ I believe — may God forgive me! — I believe I am weep- 
ing! But my tears are tears of joy; they do my heart good, 
and your majesties will forgive them ! — Well, now I am all 
right again,” he added, after a pause. “I request your 
majesties to give me instructions, and tell me what is to be 
done, and when we shall cross the Rhine.” 

Toward nightfall Blucher returned from Frankfort to 
Hochst. In front of his door he was met by General Gneise- 
nau, Colonel Muffling, and several other gentlemen of his 
staff. Blucher made a very wry face, receiving them with 
loud grumbling. “ Oh, it is all very well,” he said, alighting 
from his carriage. “ I can now communicate bad news to you. 
We shall lie still here, like lazy bears, during the whole win- 
ter; we shall neither advance nor retreat. The diplomatists 
have hatched out the idea, and I am sure they will arrange a 

* Varnhagen von Ense, “ Biography of Prince Blucher of Wahlstatt,” p. 205. 


PASSAGE OF THE RHINE. 


397 


pretty treaty of peace for ns! Well, I do not care; I will try 
to suppress my grief, and lead a happy life. If we are inac- 
tive, we shall at least try to kill time in as pleasant a manner 
as possible. I shall commence diverting myself this very day, 
and, despite the apostles of peace, show that they have not 
ruffled my temper. The officers of York’s corps will give a 
ball at Wiesbaden to-night. I will go, immediately setting 
out for Wiesbaden, and conveying the tidings to old York. 
Well, gentlemen, prepare to accompany me ; and you, General 
Gneisenau, be so kind as to go with me to my room for a minute 
or two. I wish to tell you something.” He saluted the offi- 
cers, and stepped quickly into the house. Followed by Gneise- 
nau, he entered the room, and carefully locked the door. The 
wrinkles now disappeared from his forehead, and an expres- 
sion of happiness beamed in his face. “ Gneisenau,” he said, 
encircling the tall form of his friend in his arms, “ now listen 
to what I have to say. What I told you about peace was not 
true. We are to advance — ay, to advance! and it seems to 
me as if I hear Bonaparte’s throne giving way!” 

“What, your excellency!” exclaimed Gneisenau, joyfully, 
“ we are going to advance — to march into France?” 

Blucher hastily pressed his hand on his mouth. “ Hush, 
general!” he whispered. “At present no one must hear it; it 
is a secret, and we must try to conceal our movements as much 
as possible. We ought to do our best to mislead the enemy — 
that is my plan. We must make him believe that the whole 
offensive force of the allies is turning toward Switzerland, 
and that the Silesian army is to remain on the Rhine as a 
mere corps of observation. Napoleon will make his dispositions 
accordingly: he will leave but a small force on the bank of 
the Rhine opposite us, and on passing over to the other side 
we shall meet with little resistance.” 

“That is again a plan altogether worthy of my Ulysses,” 
said Gneisenau, smiling. “ It is all-important now for us to 
let every one, and above all Napoleon, know as soon as possible 
that we stay here.” 

“ I will swear and rave so loudly that he will certainly hear 
it in Paris,” said Blucher. “Let us curse the necessity im- 
posed on us, and secretly make all necessary dispositions, in- 
form the commanders, and issue the orders, so that we may 
all cross the Rhine at midnight on the 31st of December.” 

“ What ! The passage is to take place at midnight on the 
31st of December?” asked Gneisenau. 


398 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Yes, general. Let us begin the new year with a great 
deed, that we may end it with one.” 

“But will that be possible, field-marshal? Can all our 
troops be prepared at so short a notice?” 

“ That is your task, Gneisenau ; ideas are your province, 
execution is mine. You are my head, I am your arm ; and 
these two, I believe, ought jointly to enable us to cross the 
Rhine at midnight on the 31st of December, as the holy army 
of vengeance, which God Himself sends to Bonaparte as a 
New-Year’s gift. But come, Gneisenau, let us ride to the 
ball. I must dance! Joy is in my legs, and I must allow it 
to get out of them. I shall ask old York to dance, and, 
while we two are hopping around, 1 must tell him what is to 
be done. We are to advance!” 

Blucher’s resolutions were carried into effect. All dispo- 
sitions were made in a quiet and efficient manner ; and while 
the field-marshal scolded vehemently at the inactivity of the 
winter, General Gneisenau secretly took steps to prepare for 
the passage of the Rhine. Napoleon’s spies at Frankfort and 
on the Rhine heard only the grumbling of Blucher, but they 
did not see the preparations of Gneisenau. 

On the 26th of December orders were dispatched to the com- 
manders of the different corps of the great Silesian army, 
communicating the time and place of crossing the Rhine, and 
on the 31st every soldier of that army stood on the bank ready 
for the passage. This was to be effected at three different 
points — Mannheim, Caub, and Coblentz. The grand, all- 
important moment had come; midnight was at hand. 

It was a clear and beautiful night; the deep-blue sky was 
spangled with stars, and the air cold and bracing. None saw 
the black columns moving toward the Rhine. The French, 
on the opposite side, were asleep ; they did not perceive Field- 
Marshal Blucher, who, at Caub, on the bank of the river, 
was halting on horse back by the side of his faithful Gneise- 
nau, apparently listening in breathless suspense. Suddenly, 
the stillness was interrupted by the chime of a neighboring 
church-clock; another struck, and, like echoes, their notes 
resounded down the Rhine, in all cities and villages, proclaim- 
ing that the old year was past, and a new one begun. 

Blucher took off his gray forage-cap, and, holding it before 
his face, uttered a low, fervent prayer. “ And now, forward !” 
he said, in a resolute tone. “ Let us in person convey our 
‘happy New- Year’ to the French! — And Thou, great God, 


NAPOLEON’S NEW-YEAR’S-DAY. 


399 


behold Thy German children, who are shaking off the thral- 
dom of long years, and who have become again brave men! 
Heavenly Father, bless our undertaking! Bless the Rhine, 
that it may flow to the ocean again as a free German river 
for German freeman ! — And now, boys, forward! Build your 
bridges, for Heaven sends us to France to punish Bonaparte, 
and sing him a song of the Rhine! Forward!” 


CHAPTER X L 1 1 . 
napoleon’s ne^v-year’s-day. 

It was early on the morning of the 1st of January. Napo- 
leon was angrily pacing his cabinet, while the police-minister, 
Duke de Rovigo, was standing by the emperor’s desk, and 
waiting, as if afraid to look at his master, lest his anger 
burst upon his head. 

“Why did you not tell me so yesterday, Savary?” asked 
Napoleon, with his flaming eyes on the police-minister. 
“ Why did you not inform me, immediately after the close of 
the meeting of the Chamber of Deputies, of the seditious and 
refractory spirit of the speeches which certain members dared 
to deliver?” 

“ Sire, I had no proofs of their guilt. Speeches, it is true, 
had been made, but they vanish, and offer no solid grounds 
for convicting men of crime. As I have not the honor of be- 
ing a member of the committee which your majesty has ap- 
pointed to take the condition of France into consideration, I 
was unable to hear the speeches delivered at the meeting. I 
had to obtain palpable evidence. I knew, not only that the 
commission of the Chamber of Deputies had -resolved to have 
an address to your majesty published, but that the opposition 
speaker of the committee, M. Raynouard, intended to have 
his speech printed and circulated, in order to prove to France 
that the committee of the Chamber had done every thing to 
give peace to the nation.” 

“As if that were the task of those gentlemen — as if they 
had to give me advice, or could influence me!” cried Napo- 
leon, vehemently. “ They have never dared raise their voices 
against me ; but now that we are surrounded by enemies— 
now that it is all-important for France to startle the world by 
her energy and the unanimity of her will, these men dare op- 


400 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


pose me! You allowed, then, their addresses to be sent to 
the printing-office, Savary?” 

“ Yes, sire. But I had the printing-office surrounded by 
my police-agents, and waited until the composition was com- 
pleted and the printing commenced. Then they entered the 
press-room, seized the copies already printed, knocked the 
types into pi, and burned the manuscripts,* as well as the 
proofs, except this one, which I have the honor of bringing to 
your majesty.” 

The emperor, with an impetuous movement, took up the 
printed sheet lying on the table by the side of the duke, and 
glanced over it. “ Savary,” he said, pointing out a passage on 
the paper, “ read this to me. Read the conclusion of Ray- 
nouard’s speech. Read it aloud!” He handed the paper to 
the duke, and pointed out the passage. 

Savary read as follows: “‘Let us attempt no dissimulation 
— our evils are at their height ; the country is menaced on the 
frontiers at all points; commerce is annihilated, agriculture 
languishes, industry is expiring; there is no Frenchman who 
has not, in his family or his fortune, some cruel wound to 
heal. The facts are notorious, and can never be sufficiently 
enforced. Agriculture, for the last five years, has gained 
nothing; it barely exists, and the fruit of its toil is annually 
dissipated by the treasury, which unceasingly devours every 
thing to satisfy the cravings of ruined and famished armies. 
The conscription has become, for all France, a frightful 
scourge, because it has always been driven to extremities in 
its execution. For the last three years the harvest of death 
lias 'been reaped three times a year! A barbarous war, with- 
out object, swallows up the youth torn from their education, 
from agriculture, commerce, and the arts. Have the tears 
of mothers and’ the blood of whole generations thus become 
the patrimony of kings? It is fit that nations should have a 
moment’s ! breathing-time; the period has arrived when they 
should ceased© tear out each other’s entrails; it is time that 
thrones should be consolidated, and that our enemies be de- 
prived of the plea that we are forever striving to carry into the 
world the torch of revolution. ... To prevent the country 
from becoming the prey of foreigners, it is indispensable to 
nationalize the war ; and this cannot be done unless the nation 
and its monarch be united by closer bonds. It has become 
indispensable to give a satisfactory answer to our enemies’ ac- 

* “M6moires d’un Homme d’fitat,” vol. xii., p. 294. 


NAPOLEON’S NEW-YEAR’S-DAY. 


401 


cusations of aggrandizement : there would be real magnanimity 
in a formal declaration that the independence of the French 
people and the integrity of its territory are all that we contend 
for. It is for the government to propose measures which may 
promptly repel the enemy, and secure peace on a durable basis. 
Those measures would be at once efficacious, if the French 
people were persuaded that the government in good faith as- 
pired only to the glory of peace, and that their blood would 
no longer be shed but to defend our country, and secure the 
protection of the laws. But these words of ‘peace ’ and ‘coun- 
try ’ will resound in vain, if the institutions are not guaran- 
teed which secure those blessings. It appears, therefore, to 
the commission, to be indispensable that, at the same time 
that the government proposes the most prompt and efficacious 
measures for the security of the country, his majesty should 
be supplicated to maintain entire the execution of the laws 
, which guarantee to the French the rights of liberty and se- 
curity, and to the nation the free exercise of its political 
rights.”* 

“Well,” cried the emperor, impetuously, “what do you 
think of that? Does it not sound like the first note of the 
tocsin by which the people are to be called upon to rise in re- 
bellion?” 

“ Sire, it is the language of treason !” replied Savary. “ The 
conduct of the members of this committee would justify your 
majesty to have them shot as traitors.” f 

The emperor made no reply, but bowed his head on his 
breast, and, with his hands folded behind him, paced the 
room for a few moments. “ Savary,” he then said, “ it is suffi- 
cient for us to be at war with our foreign enemies ; let us not 
get into difficulty with our domestic adversaries. This is not 
the time for doing so. If we conquer our foreign enemies, 
the domestic ones will of themselves be silent; but if we suc- 
cumb, every thing will be different. Those gentlemen have 
acted both foolishly and ungenerously (at a moment when it 
is all-important that France should act and think as one man), 
to stir up political partisan feeling; and it is ungrateful to 
oppose me at a time when, overwhelmed with care and work, 
I need my whole energy to maintain my position. Let us 
leave it to fate to punish the traitors. They will not have long 
to wait!” 


* “M6moires (Tun Homme d’fitat,’ 1 vol. xii., p. 293. 
tlbid., p. 294. 


402 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ And those haughty members of the Chamber of Deputies 
do not even feel that they are deserving of punishment,” ex- 
claimed the duke, indignantly. “ The whole committee, and 
M. Raynouard with them, have accompanied me to the Tui- 
leries, and repaired to the throne-hall in order to offer your 
majesty their congratulations for the new year.” 

“Ah, it is true, to-day is New-Year’s-day,” said Napoleon; 
“ I had almost forgotten it, for the cares and anxiety of the 
old year have, as a most faithful suite, followed me into the 
new year. But I am glad you remind me of it! I will go to 
the throne-hall and receive the congratulations of my faithful 
subjects, or those who call themselves so. Follow me!” 

In the throne-hall were assembled, as on every New-Year’s- 
day, the dignitaries of France and the most prominent authori- 
ties of the government ; but for the first time, since the es- 
tablishment of the empire, the representatives of the foreign 
powers and the ambassadors of the European princes failed to 
appear at the reception in the Tuileries. In former years 
they had hastened to present their congratulations; to-day not 
one of those representatives was present, not even the ambas- 
sador of the Emperor of Austria, Napoleon’s father-in-law — 
not even the ambassador of the King of Naples, his brother- 
in-law! The troops of the Emperor Francis had invaded 
France; the troops of King Murat had returned to Naples, 
and he had informed his brother-in-law that the welfare of 
his own country rendered it necessary for him to forsake 
France. The very princes of the Confederation of the Rhine, 
hitherto the most sycophantic flatterers of the emperor, hacl 
likewise turned away from him; all the allies, adulators, and 
friends of his days of prosperity had left him, as rats desert 
the sinking ship. No one was in the throne-hall except the 
dignitaries and officers of France, and one-half of these came, 
perhaps, because the duties of their offices rendered it incum- 
bent on them — because the events of the future could not be 
positively foreseen, and the emperor, thanks to his lucky star, 
might finally conquer his enemies. 

The emperor entered with his usual proud and careless in- 
difference. His quick glance swept past the ranks of the as- 
sembly, and rested for a moment on the place where the am- 
bassadors of the foreign governments formerly stood beside the 
throne, and where no one was to be seen to-day. But not a 
feature changed; he was still calm and grave. With a gentle 
nod he turned toward the ministers who were on the left, and 


NAPOLEON’S NEW-YEAR’S- DAY. 


403 


addressed each of them a few kind words; he then quickly 
ascended the steps of the throne. Under the canopy, he 
turned his eyes toward the side where were the members of 
the senate and the legislature. 

Napoleon’s eyes flashed down the silent assembly with an 
expression of terrible anger. When he spoke, his voice rolled 
like thunder through the hall, and echoed in the trembling 
hearts of those who were conscious of their guilt, and who 
hung their heads under the outburst of their sovereign’s 
wrath. “Gentlemen of the legislature,” he said, “you come 
to greet me. I accept your greetings, and will tell you what 
you ought to hear. You have it in your power to do much 
good, and you have done nothing but mischief. Eleven- 
twelfths of you are patriotic, the rest are factious. What do 
you hope by putting yourselves in opposition? To gain pos- 
session of power? But what are your means? Are you the 
representatives of the people? I am. Four times I have been 
invoked by the nation, and have had the votes of four millions 
of men. I have a title to supreme authority, which you have 
not. You are nothing but the representatives of the depart- 
ments. Your report is drawn up with an astute and perfid- 
ious spirit, of the effects of which you are well aware. Two 
battles lost in Champagne would not have done me so much 
mischief. I have sacrificed my passions, my pride, my am- 
bition, to the good of France. I was in expectation that you 
would appreciate my motives, and not urge me to what is in- 
consistent with the honor of the nation. Far from that, in your 
report you mingle irony with reproach: you tell me that ad- 
versity has given me salutary counsels. How can you reproach 
me with my misfortunes? I have supported them with honor, 
because I have received from nature a sturdy temper ; and if 
I had not possessed it, I would never have raised myself to the 
first throne in the world. Nevertheless, I have need of con- 
solation, and I expected it from you : so far from receiving it, 
you have endeavored to depreciate me ; but I am one of those 
whom you may kill, but cannot dishonor. Is it by such re- 
proaches that you expect to restore the lustre of the throne? 
What is the throne? Four pieces of gilded wood, covered 
with a piece of velvet. The real throne has its seat in the 
heart of the nation. You cannot separate the two without 
mutual injury ; for it has more need of me than I have of it. 
What couid the nation do without a chief? When the ques- 
tion was, how we could repel the enemy, you demand institu- 


404 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


tions as if we had them not! Are you not content with the 
constitution? If you are not, you should have told me so four 
years ago, or postponed your demand to two years after a gen- 
eral peace. Is this the moment to insist on such a demand? 
You wish to imitate the Constituent Assembly, and commence 
a revolution? Be it so. You will find I will not imitate 
Louis XVI. : I would rather abandon the throne, I would pre- 
fer making part of the sovereign people, to being an enslaved 
king. I am sprung from the people ; I know the obligations 
I contracted when I ascended the throne. You have done 
much mischief; you would have done me still more, if I had 
allowed your report to be printed. — You speak of abuses, of 
vexations. I know, as well as you, that such have existed; 
they arose from circumstances, and the misfortunes of the 
times. But was it necessary to let all Europe into our secrets? 
Is it fitting to wash our dirty linen in public? In what you 
say there is some truth and some falsehood. What, then, 
was your obvious duty? To have confidentially made known 
your grounds of complaint to me, by whom they would have 
been thankfully received. I do not, any more than your- 
selves, love those who have oppressed you. In three months 
we shall have peace : the enemy will be driven from our terri- 
tory, or I shall be dead. We have greater resources than you 
imagine: our enemies have never conquered us — never will. 
They will be pursued over the frontier more quickly than they 
crossedit. Go!”* 

The last words of the speech were still resounding through 
the hall when the deputies, with pale faces, bowing timidly 
and silently before the throne, turned and walked toward the 
door. All eyes were riveted on them, and it was felt that the 
men whom the emperor dismissed with such a strain of vehe- 
ment invective were twenty new enemies whom Napoleon sent 
into the provinces, and who would bring a new hostile army 
— public opinion— into the field against him. Many hoped 
that the emperor, perceiving his blunder, would call back the 
deputies by some pleasant word, in order to bring about a 
reconciliation between him and those who, whatever the em- 
peror might say, represented in the throne-hall the opinion 
of the people. 

But Napoleon did not call them back ; standing on his throne, 
haughty and defiant, he looked after the disappearing deputies 
in anger; and only when the door of the anteroom closed, 

♦Bucher et Roux, “Histoire Pari, de France,” vol. xxxix., pp. 460, 461. 


NAPOLEON’S NEW-YEAR’S-DAY. 


405 


did he turn his eyes toward those who surrounded him. As 
if by a magician’s wand his face resumed its former expression 
of august calmness. He slowly left the throne, and, drop- 
ping here and there a few condescending words, crossed the 
hall. Suddenly he noticed Baron Fontaine, the architect of 
the imperial palaces. “Ah,” exclaimed Napoleon, quickly 
advancing toward him, “you are here, Fontaine? I intended 
to send for you to-day. Did you bring your plans with you?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“Well, then, come; and you, ministers, Duke de Rovigo, 
Duke de Vicenza, Duke de Bassano, pray follow me into my 
cabinet.” 

The officers and cavaliers who remained in the hall looked 
after the emperor with anxious glances. “ A cabinet meeting 
on this holiday! and at which the imperial architect has to be 
present!” they whispered. “What means this? Will the 
emperor commission M. de Fontaine to transform the Tuileries 
into a fortress, and construct ramparts and ditches? Are 
we, if all should be lost, to defend ourselves? Or will the 
emperor convert Paris into a fortress? Is M. de Fontaine to 
erect outworks and fortifications? Or will the emperor have 
a new Bastile built for the purpose of confining the traitorous 
legislature and several hundreds of these new-fangled royalists 
who are now springing up like mushrooms?” 

But the emperor did not think of all this when, followed by 
the three ministers and Baron Fontaine, he entered his cabi- 
net. An expression of affability overspread his features, and 
round his lips played the sunny smile which appeared so irre- 
sistible to all who had ever seen it. “ Come hither, gentle- 
men,” he said, merrily, “ let us act here as judges. Fontaine 
brings us plans for a palace for the King of Rome. It is high 
time for me to think of building one for the heir-apparent, 
and this idea has engrossed my mind for a long period. If 
the times had not been so unfavorable, it would already have 
been completed. I will begin now, in order to prove to the 
foreign powers how great is the confidence felt by France and 
her emperor in their ability to withstand the attacks of the 
allies; for, while their armies are fighting the enemy, they are 
constructing a palace for their future emperor. — Now let me 
see your plans, Fontaine; unroll them!” 

Fontaine spread out on the table the papers which he had 
brought with him from the anteroom. The emperor bent 
over them, and asked the architect to explain to him the differ- 


40G 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ent lines and figures. The three ministers stood beside them, 
grave and silent, and their furtive glances seemed to ask 
whether this really was not a scene intentionally contrived by 
the emperor — whether he really could think of building a 
palace for the King of Rome at a moment when France was 
hemmed in on all sides, and meanced by enemies, endangering 
the existence of the imperial throne! 

But Napoleon really seemed to be quite sincere. With his 
magic energy he appeared to have banished all gloomy 
thoughts, and to be engrossed only in plans for a serene future. 
“See here, Caulaincourt,” he said, pointing to one of the 
plans, “what do you think of this? It is a sort of castle or 
fort, and looks well, does it not?” 

“Very, indeed,” replied Caulaincourt. “ It reminds me of 
the palace at Oranienbaum, which Paul I. built. The towers 
at the corners, the bastions, and ditches, are similar; and the 
interior had not only many rooms, but secret staircases, doors, 
and hidden passages.” 

“And yet Paul I. was assassinated in that palace!” cried 
the emperor, whose face suddenly darkened. “ The doors and 
passages did not protect him from murderers. — Well, Maret 
and Savary, what do you think of it? Do you deem it best 
that I should build the palace for the King of Rome in the 
style of a fortress, like that of Oranienbaum?” 

“ Sire,” exclaimed Savary, eagerly, “ so precious a head can- 
not be sufficiently protected. In building a palace for the 
king, less attention should be paid to an attractive appearance 
than to safety and convenience.” 

“ Is that your opinion, too, Maret?” 

The Duke de Bassano was silent for a moment, and closely 
examined the plan. “No, sire,” he then said, looking at the 
emperor, with a polite yet somewhat singular smile — “no, 
sire. I believe we should avoid the semblance of a fortress 
built for the heir-apparent, just as though he should ever need 
such a place of refuge against his own subjects, and in the 
middle of his capital ! People would say your majesty intended 
to reconstruct for your successor the old Bastile.” 

“Maret is right,” exclaimed the emperor. “No fortress! 
The confidence, love, and attachment of his people should be 
the only safeguard of a monarch. Ramparts did not save Paul 
I. ; the greatest precautions, locked and guarded doors, did 
not protect the sultan from the scimitars of the Janizaries; 
every one falls when his hour has struck ; it will strike for 


NAPOLEON’S NEW-YEAR’S-DAY. 


407 


me, too, and my life will belong to him who is willing to give 
up his life for mine! But I shall teach my son to govern the 
Parisians without fortresses, and make them love him.* It 
is true, however, there will always be malicious men to frus- 
trate our efforts, and sow the seeds of discord between me and 
my people.” 

“ Sire,” said Fontaine, anxious to turn the emperor’s thoughts 
into a different channel, “ here is another plan. The former 
was in the old feudal style; this would look more like a villa.” 

“That is the very thing I want,” exclaimed the emperor, 
eagerly. “ A villa in the grandest possible style — a palace 
magnificent enough to be mentioned after the Louvre, but still 
with all the peculiarities of a villa. For the palace of the 
King of Rome, after all, will be only a sort of villa in Paris; 
as a winter residence the Tuileries, or the Louvre, would be 
preferred. But, though I want the building to be large and 
brilliant, the total cost must not exceed ten million francs. I 
do not want a chimera, but something real, substantial, and 
practical, for myself and the king, and not a fanciful structure 
merely gratifying to the architect. The completion of the 
Louvre will give glory enough to the architect. As to the 
palace of the King of Rome, he may forget his personal inter- 
est, and think only of rendering the structure as convenient 
as possible. It is to become a sort of Sans-Souci, where one 
is merry, forgets care, enjoys the sunshine in the apartments, 
and the shade in the garden, and may combine the simplicity 
of rural life with the comforts of a great city. Imagine you 
were building a commodious residence for a rich private citi- 
zen, a convalescent who has need of comfort, repose, and 
diversion. There must be, therefore, a small theatre, a small 
chapel, a concert-hall, a ball-room, a billiard-room, and a 
library; fish-ponds, and shady groves in the garden — in short, 
a genuine villa.” f 

“I believe your majesty will find all that you wish for 
united in this,” said the Duke de Bassano, who had care- 
fully examined the second plan. “ It is a villa in grand style, 
and surely worthy of a great prince.” 

“Ah,” said the emperor, with a profound sigh, “would it 
were already finished, and I could live in it with my son ! I — ” 

At this moment the folding-doors of the cabinet were 
thrown open, and the usher’s voice shouted, “ His majesty the 
King of Rome!” 

♦Napoleon’s words.— Vide “ Memoirs of the Duchess d’Abrantes.” 

+ Napoleon's words. — Vide Constant, Memoires,” vol. v., p. 184. 


408 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE KING OF ROME. 

The emperor, with a joyful exclamation, turned toward the 
door. On its threshold stood a boy of remarkable beauty, 
such as Correggio or Murillo would have selected as a cherub 
model. His slender but vigorous form was clothed in sky- 
blue velvet, embroidered with silver, and his fairy-like feet 
wore shoes of the same color. His dimpled arms were bare, 
and a fleece of golden ringlets fell on his fair neck and shoul- 
ders. An ingenuousness, undeformed by bad training, in- 
creased the charm of his natural beauty. There was nothing 
affected in his blooming face; and, while a happy temper 
played about his lips, there was a light in his large blue eyes, 
reminding the beholder of his great father, from whom he 
also inherited a forehead which, when the attractions of his 
childhood had passed away, would at once assert his manly 
gravity and thought. 

Behind the boy appeared the dignified form of Madame de 
Montesquiou, his governess, who seemed to take pains to keep 
back the boy, and, seizing his hand, hastily whispered a few 
words to him. But he forcibly disengaged himself, and, with- 
out noticing any one but the emperor, rushed toward him with 
open arms. “ Papa,” he cried, in an imploring tone — “ papa, 
have you not given me permission to come to you at any time?” 

“Yes, sire,” said the emperor, tenderly, lifting him into 
his arms, “and the proof of it is that you are here.” 

“Well, dear ’Quiou,” asked the boy, in a triumphant tone, 
turning toward Madame de Montesquiou — “ did I not tell you 
so? — The usher would not admit me, papa, though I told him 
I am the King of Rome!” 

“He ran away from me,” said the governess, “ in the first 
anteroom, and so fast that I could not follow' him.” 

“It was because I wanted to see my dear papa emperor,” 
cried the child, fixing his eyes with an expression of inde- 
scribable tenderness on his father. 

“But that was the reason, sire,” said the governess, “why 
the usher would not immediately open the door to you. He 
did not know whether he was allowed to do so, and waited, 
therefore, until I came.” 


THE KING OF ROME. 


409 


“ But why did he not know that he was allowed to do so?” 
cried the little king, impetuously. “Did I not tell him, ‘I 
will it, I am the King of Rome?’ Pray tell me, papa em- 
peror, do not the ushers obey you either when you say, ‘I 
will it?’ ” 

The emperor laughed as loudly and merrily as he had done 
in the days of his prosperity, and the ministers and Baron 
Fontaine joined heartily in his mirth; even Madame de 
Montesquiou could not suppress a faint smile. The boy saw 
it, and asked hastily, “ AVhy do you laugh, ’Quiou? Did I 
say any thing ridiculous?” 

“No, rather something charming,” said the emperor, smil- 
ing, laying his hand on the blond head of his child, and press- 
ing it closer to his breast. With the child still in his arms, 
he seated himself in an easy-chair, and, placing the little fair- 
haired king on his knee, gazed at him with joyful eyes. His 
whole countenance was changed, and beaming with mildness; 
even his voice assumed another tone, and seemed incapable of 
command or threat. 

“ Sire,” said the emperor, “we were just speaking of you.” 

“Ah,” cried the child, with an arch smile, “I know what 
it was! My papa emperor was thinking of a New-Year’s 
present!” 

“But, sire,” exclaimed the governess, sharply, “it is un- 
seemly to ask for presents.” 

A blush suffused the child’s face, and seemed reflected on 
the pale cheeks of the emperor, who felt almost pained at 
seeing him so much ashamed of himself. 

“Madame,” he said, turning hastily to the governess, “I 
have to ask a favor of you : pray leave the King of Rome here 
with me for a time. I myself will take him back to you, and 
I promise to watch carefully over his majesty.” 

Madame de Montesquiou made a ceremonious obeisance; 
the little king kissed his hand to her, and she then left the 
cabinet. No sooner had the door closed than the boy, with a 
smile, encircled the emperor’s neck with his arms, and cried, 
“ Now we are alone, papa emperor !” 

“Oh, no!” said the emperor, smiling, “ did you not yet see 
these gentlemen?” 

“No,” said the child, looking round in surprise, “ I saw 
only you, papa!” 

Never had the lips of the most beautiful woman uttered 
words that gladdened his heart so much as these. But before 
27 


410 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


his ministers he was almost ashamed of his sensitiveness, and, 
therefore, he forced himself to assume a graver air. “Sire,” 
he said, “ above all, you must greet these gentlemen; they are 
my ministers, and very dear friends of mine.” 

“Ah, then they are friends of mine, too,” cried the bov, 
with that politeness which comes from the heart. Quickly 
descending from his father’s knee to the carpet on the floor, 
the little King of Rome walked several steps toward the 
gentlemen, and bowed so deeply to them that his blond ring- 
lets rolled down over his face. “ Pardon me, gentlemen,” he 
said, “ if I did not see and greet you ! I came to my papa 
emperor because to-day is a holiday, and I desired to wish 
him a happy New-Year. I see you now, gentlemen, and, if 
you will permit me, I wish you all, too, a happy New- 
Year.” 

The gentlemen bowed, and looked with an expression of 
gentle sympathy and emotion on the lovely child, as if im- 
ploring the blessing of Heaven upon him. The emperor 
probably read this in their eyes, for he greeted the gentlemen 
with a pleasant smile, and nodded to them with the trium- 
phant air of a happy father. 

“ Papa emperor,” exclaimed the child, turning once more 
to his father, “ my dear Madame ’Quiou says that France has 
now need of prosperity, and that I, therefore, ought to pray 
the good God to grant us His favor.” 

“Well, and did you do so?” inquired the emperor. 

“Yes,” replied the child, “I did, from the bottom of my 
heart.” 

“ How did you pray? Let me hear, sire; it can do no harm 
if you pray to God once more to grant us His favor. What 
did you say?” 

The child assumed a grave air, and knelt down. He then 
raised his clasped hands, and, leaning back his head, lifted 
up his large blue eyes. “ Good God,” he said aloud, “ I pray 
to Thee for France and for my father!” 

These words, uttered in so clear and melodious a voice, 
sounding like an angel’s greeting in the solemn cabinet of the 
emperor, made a wonderful impression. The gentlemen 
averted their heads, to conceal their emotion from Napoleon. 
But he paid no attention to them ; his eyes rested on his child 
with an expression of profound affection ; a veil seemed to over- 
spread them, and as it perhaps prevented the emperor from see- 
ing his kneeling child distinctly, he quickly moved his hand 


THE KING OF ROME. 


411 


across his eyes. The veil disappeared, but the hand that had 
drawn it aside was moist. 

The boy jumped up and hastened back to his father, who 
clasped him tenderly in his arms, and then, as if to apologize, 
turned toward his ministers. “ Well, gentlemen,” he said, 
gayly, “ do you believe that the voice of the King of Rome is 
strong enough to reach to heaven, and bring prosperity to 
Frauce and to myself?” 

“Sire, I do,” said the Duke de Bassano, in a trembling 
voice. 

“And I feel convinced of it,” said the Duke de Rovigo. 
“ If any prayer can reach heaven, this must.” 

“It will bless France and her august emperor,” said the 
Duke de Vicenza. “ Sire, permit me to ask a favor of you. 
Give to France as a New-Year’s present of your love, the 
picture of the King of Rome praying for France and his 
father. Your majesty, send for Isabey, and have him repre- 
sent the king in this charming attitude. He will paint such 
a picture both with his hand and his heart, and within a 
month it must be circulated as a copperplate throughout 
France. Sire, I venture to assert that this engraving will 
win all hearts, and the members of the legislature cannot 
excite half as much hatred in the provinces as this picture 
will produce love.” 

“You are right,” said the emperor, “that is an excellent 
idea. France shall learn that my son prays, first for it, and 
then for me. — Maret, see to it that Isabey come to-morrow. 
The plate must be ready for distribution in the course of a 
month.* And now,” added the emperor, putting the child 
again on his knee, “ now tell me what do you want me to give 
you as a New-Year’s present?” 

“ Oh,” cried the little king, smiling, “I know something, 
dear papa emperor, but I dare not say what it is.” 

“Ah, you may,” said the emperor. “I pledge you my 
word that I will fulfil your wish, if it be possible. Speak, 
then.” 

“Sire,” asked little Napoleon, nodding toward the minis- 
ters, “ sire, will these gentlemen not betray me to Madame de 
Montesquiou?” 

“I warrant you they will not,” said the emperor, gravely. 
“ Let me hear what you want.” 

♦ This copperplate really appeared shortly after ; it is a sweet and beautiful por- 
trait of the little King of Rome. 


412 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Well, then, papa emperor,” said the boy, leaning his head 
on his father’s breast, and looking up to him, “ I feel a great 
wish that I could run just once all alone into the street, and 
play in the mud and the gutter, as other children do.”* 

The emperor burst into loud laughter, in which the others 
did not fail to join. “Ah, you see, gentlemen,” exclaimed 
the emperor, “ this is a new rendering of Lafontaine’s cele- 
brated ‘ Toujour s perdrix! 9 The King of Rome, being able 
to command all that is beautiful and agreeable to his heart’s 
content, is longing for the gutter. — Be patient, sire, I cannot 
immediately fulfil your wish, but I shall have a palace for you, 
and in its court-yard you shall have a gutter, too. Sire, look 
at those plans which Baron Fontaine has drawn up for a 
palace destined for you alone.” 

“What! For me alone?” asked the child, in dismay. 
“ You will not live with me in the palace?” 

“ No, sire. The King of Rome must have a palace of his 
own where he will reside with his court.” 

“Papa emperor, I thank you for your New-Year’s gift,” 
said the boy, sullenly; “ I thank you, but do not accept it. I 
do not want a palace of my own. I thank your majesty, but 
prefer remaining at the Tuileries.” 

“ But, sire, just think of it — a splendid palace belonging to 
you alone!” 

“ I do not want to live alone !” 

“ Well, sire, then you will request your beautiful mother, 
the empress, to live with you. Will that be sufficient?” 

The boy glanced quickly and anxiously around the room, 
as if to satisfy himself that neither the empress nor Madame 
de Montesquiou was present; he then threw both his arms 
round the emperor’s neck, and exclaimed, “I want to be 
where you are, papa!” 

Napoleon pressed his lips with passionate tenderness on his 
son’s head. “Well, sire,” he said, in a voice tremulous with 
love, “I believe your wishes will have to be complied with. 
As soon as your palace is completed I shall live with you. 
Do you accept your palace on this condition?” 

“Yes, my dear papa emperor,” exclaimed the prince, joy- 
ously, “now I accept it, and thank you for it.” 

“Well, you hear that, Fontaine,” said Napoleon, turning 
toward his architect. “ You may begin the construction of 
the palace; the King of Rome accepts it. I sanction this 

* Bausset, “M6moires sur Int6rieur du Palais Imperial,” vol. ii. 


THE KING OF ROME. 


413 


second plan. Build a magnificent villa, and it must be com- 
pleted in two years. In two years — ” 

Suddenly the emperor paused, and his face darkened. 
“Ah,” he said, gloomily, putting his hand on the prince’s 
head, “ ah, we purpose building you a palace, but if they con- 
quer me you will not even possess a cabin!”* The emperor’s 
head dropped on his breast, and a pause ensued, which the 
child, usually so vivacious, did not venture to interrupt. 

At length Napoleon said: “Go, Fontaine, and take your 
plans along; I will confer further about the matter. And 
you, ministers, come, we have to settle some questions of im- 
portance. But, first, I must take the king back to his gov- 
erness.” 

The boy clung with almost anxious tenderness to his father. 
“ Ah, dear, dear papa emperor,” he begged, “ let me stay here! 
I will be quiet — oh, so very quiet! I will only sit on your 
knee, lean my head on your breast, and not disturb you at 
all.” 

“ Well, you may stay then,” said Napoleon. “ We shall see 
whether you really can be quiet and not disturb us.” 

The little child kept his word. Sitting quietly on the em- 
peror’s knee, and leaning his little head on his father’s breast, 
he did not interrupt in the least the important conference of 
Napoleon and his ministers. An hour afterward the con- 
ference was over, and the dukes were dismissed. 

“ Now, sire,” said Napoleon, turning toward the child, now 
“let us play.” 

But the little king, who always received these words with 
exultation, remained silent, and when the emperor bent over 
him, he saw that he had fallen asleep. “ Happy king!” mur- 
mured Napoleon, “happy king! who can fall asleep in the 
midst of state business!” Softly and cautiously drawing the 
boy closer to his breast, and taking pains not to disturb his 
slumber, he sat still and motionless, scarcely breathing, al- 
though sad thoughts oppressed his mind. It was an interest- 
ing spectacle — this lovely boy leaning his head in smiling 
dreams on the breast of his father, who was looking down, on 
him with grave and tender eyes. 

The emperor sat thus a long time. Strange and wonderful 
thoughts stole upon him— thoughts of past happiness, of past 
love. He thought of how long he had yearned to possess a 
son, and how many tears his first consort shed— how ardently 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide “ Memoirs of the Duchess d’Abrantes.” 


414 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


he had been loved by the noble and beautiful Josephine, 
whom, in his pride, which demanded an heir-apparent, he 
had thrust into* solitude. Providence had given Bonaparte 
all that his heart had longed for — a beautiful young wife, 
who loved him, and who was the daughter of an emperor; 
and a sweet, lovely child that was to be the heir of his impe- 
rial throne. But Providence, by giving him all, had taken 
all from Josephine — the heart and hand of her husband, her 
dignity and authority as an empress and sovereign. She was 
now nothing but a deserted and unhappy lady, who had only 
tears for her past, no joy in the present, no hopes for the 
future. 

All this was on account of the child adored by his father, 
and hailed by France; and yet, despite all the mischief this 
little boy had done her and the fact that he was the child of 
another woman, Josephine loved him, and often implored the 
emperor to let her see and embrace the little King of Rome. 
He had always refused to grant this request, in order not to 
stir up the jealousy of his young wife, but, at this quiet hour, 
when he was alone with his sleeping child, Napoleon thought 
of Josephine with melancholy tenderness. Amid the pro- 
found silence which surrounded him, his recollections spoke 
to him. They pointed him to Josephine in the imperishable 
splendor of her love, her grace, and goodness; he thought he 
saw her sweet lips, which had always a smile for him; her 
brilliant eyes, which had ever looked tenderly on him, and 
which had learned to read his most secret thoughts. 

“Poor Josephine!” he murmured, “poor Josephine! she 
loved me ardently, and many things might be different now if 
she were still by my side. She was my guardian angel, and 
with her my success has departed. She sacrificed her happi- 
ness to me and my ambition; and while formerly all hastened 
to offer congratulations on this day and pay homage to the 
empress, she now sits lonely and deserted at Malmaison. — 
No,” he then said aloud, “no, she shall not be lonely and 
deserted ! I surely owe it to her to occasion her a moment of 
joy. She shall see my son — I myself will take him to her.” 
He cautiously lifted up the boy in his arms and rose. The 
prince awoke and looked smilingly np to his father, who 
carried him to the sofa and laid him with tender care on the 
cushions. But little Napoleon jumped up, and said laugh- 
ingly. “ I am no longer tired. The dukes are gone now, and 
let us play, papa!” 


THE KING OF ROME. 


415 


“No, sire,” said the emperor, “not now, I have business 
to attend to. But listen to me : at noon to-day I will take a 
ride with you, all alone — that is to be my New-Year’s 
present.” 

The boy uttered a cry of joy. “All alone, papa emperor? 
Oh, that will be splendid!” 

“ But now go to Madame de Montesquiou, sire,” said the 
emperor.— “ Constant!” When the valet de chambre entered 
the room, he ordered Constant, “ Pray conduct his majesty 
the King of Rome to Madame de Montesquiou, and tell her I 
shall call for him in a few hours in order to take a ride with 
him alone, without any attendants whatever. — Adieu, Sire, 
in a few hours we shall meet again.” 

But the boy stood and looked at the emperor with grave 
and sullen glances. “Sire,” he said, “my dear Madame 
’Quiou tells me often a king ought to keep his word. Now 
I ask you must an emperor not keep his word also?” 

“Certainly, sire!” 

“Well, then, your majesty, take me to Madame ’Quiou,” 
cried the boy, joyously; “you told her you would do so. 
Come, papa!” 

“Ah,” exclaimed the emperor, smiling, “you are right — 
an emperor must fulfil his word, though he has pledged it 
only to a king. Come, sire, I will conduct you to Madame de 
Montesquiou. Constant, await me here!” 

A few minutes afterward, the emperor returned to his 
cabinet. “ Constant,” he said, in a low voice, “ I know you 
loved the Empress Josephine, and have not forgotten her, I 
suppose?” 

“Sire, the empress was my benefactress; I owe to her all 
that I am, and she was always kind to me.” 

“More so than the present empress, you mean to say?” 
asked the emperor, casting a searching glance on his valet de 
chambre; and, as Constant was silent, Napoleon added, “It 
is true, the young empress is less condescending than my first 
consort. But that is, Constant, because she was brought up 
as the daughter of an emperor, and her feelings were restrained 
by the narrow limits of etiquette. Josephine forgot too much 
that she was an empress, Maria Louisa forgets it too little; 
but her heart is good and gentle, and she would never wish 
to grieve me. So, Constant, you have not yet forgotten the 
Empress Josephine?” 

“Sire, none that ever knew the Empress Josephine could 


416 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


help remembering her. For my own part, I can never forget 
her.” 

“Ah, what a fripon you are, to give me such a reply! 
Well, I will prove to you, M. Fripon, that I have not forgotten 
Josephine, either. This is New-Year’s-day. Would you not 
like to offer your congratulations to the Empress Josephine at 
Malm ai son?” 

“ Sire, if so humble and low a servant as I am may dare, I 
should certainly be very happy to lay my congratulations at 
her feet.” 

“ Go, I permit you to do so, and the empress will surely 
receive you very kindly.” 

“ Particularly, sire, if I had a message from his majesty the 
emperor to deliver.” 

“Fripon, I believe you take the liberty of guessing my 
thoughts! Yes, I will give you a message. Hasten to the 
Empress Josephine, take her my greetings, but see that the 
empress receives you without witnesses. — I)o you hear, Con- 
stant — without witnesses? Then tell her to have her carriage 
immediately brought to the door, and, on the pretext of 
being alone with her mournful New-Year’s meditations, to 
take a ride without attendants. But when she is at a con- 
siderable distance from Malmaison, she is to order the coach- 
man to drive to the little castle of La Bagatelle. She must 
be there precisely at four o’clock. I shall be there, and tell 
her majesty I shall not come alone. Now make haste, Con- 
stant! Recommend entire reticence to the empress. As to 
yourself, pray do not forget that, if any one shall hear of this 
affair, you must be held responsible. Go!” 


CHAPTER X L I V . 

JOSEPHINE. 

Just as the clock struck four, the carriage of the Empress 
Josephine wheeled into the courtyard of the little castle of La 
Bagatelle. She inquired of the castellan, in a tremulous voice, 
whether any one had arrived there, and she breathed more 
freely when he replied in the negative. She left the carriage 
with youthful alacrity and entered the castle, followed by the 
castellan, who gazed in amazement at this empress without 
court or suite, who arrived stealthily and tremblingly, like a 


JOSEPHINE. 


417 


maiden to meet her lover for the first time. She hurried 
through the well-known apartments of the castle, and en- 
tered the hall in which, during the days of her happiness, she 
had so often received the foreign princes and ambassadors, or 
the dignitaries of France. The hall was now empty; no one 
was there to receive the deserted empress; but bright, merry 
fires were burning in the fireplaces, and every thing was in 
readiness for the reception of distinguished guests. 

“ You knew, then, that I was to come?" inquired the em- 
press of the castellan. 

“ Your majesty,” he replied, in a low and reverential voice, 
“ M. Constant was here, and gave orders to have the rooms in 
readiness. If your majesty wishes refreshments, you will find 
every thing served up in the dining-room.” 

“No, no, I thank you,” cried the empress, hastily. “But 
tell me is my dressing-room — my former dressing-roorn,” she 
corrected herself falteringly — “ is that heated, too?” 

“ Your majesty will find all your rooms comfortable, just as 
though you still condescended to reside here.” 

“ Well, then, I will go to that room. If any one comes, I 
shall notice it through the opened doors ; it is unnecessary for 
you to inform me; I will go then at once to the reception- 
room.” 

The castellan withdrew, and Josephine hastened through 
the adjoining apartment into the dressing-room. With a 
long, painful sigh she glanced around the room which had so 
often witnessed her happiness and her triumphs. Here, sur- 
rounded by her ladies in front of this mirror, she had had her 
hair dressed, and the emperor had almost always made his ap- 
pearance at that hour to chat with her, look at her toilet, and 
delight her heart by a smile, a glance, that was more trans- 
porting to her than all the homage and flattery paid her by 
all her other admirers. Now she was here again, but alone, 
and with a mournful sigh she stepped to the mirror which 
had so often reflected her charming portrait, radiant with 
happiness, and sparkling with diamonds. 

And what did she see now in this mirror? A woman with 
a pale, grief-stricken face, features growing old, and a de- 
sponding exhaustion which only a good and pleasant life can 
disguise when the vigor of youth has faded. 

“ Oh, I have become old!” sighed Josephine; “ the years of 
tears and solitude count double, for one consumes then in days 
the strength of many years. I have grown old because I have 


418 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


wept for him , and because I have felt his misfortunes. Oh, 
how will he look? Will his cheeks be even paler and his eyes 
gloomier than formerly? I have not seen him since his re- 
turn from his disastrous campaign; if I read the history of 
his sufferings on his face, my grief will kill me. But no,” she 
encouraged herself, “I will not weep, nor trouble him with 
my tears. I will be serene, and suppress my emotions. He 
will not come alone; but whom will he bring with him? I 
hope not the woman who is my rival — to whom I had to yield 
my throne! — No, I know Bonaparte’s heart, I know that he 
would be incapable of such cruelty. She, young, beautiful, 
the reigning empress — I, old, sorrowful, faded, the deserted 
empress! I — ah, there is a carriage rolling into the court- 
yard! He comes!” Her whole form trembled, and, breath- 
less, her face suffused with deep blushes, she sank into an easy- 
chair. “I love him still,” she murmured; “ my heart does 
not forget!” A low knocking at the small side-door leading 
to the inner corridor, was heard, and Constant entered. 
Josephine rose hastily, and with quivering lips asked, “ Con- 
stant, is he there?” 

“ Yes, your majesty. The emperor requests you to repair 
to the reception-room. He will be there in a moment.” 

“And who is accompanying him?” 

“ His majesty has commissioned me to tell you that it would 
afford him great satisfaction to prepare a little surprise for 
your majesty, and that he has, therefore, fulfilled a wish 
which you have felt for a long time.” 

“Constant!” exclaimed Josephine, joyfully, “the emperor 
brings the King of Rome to me?” 

“ Yes, your majesty.” 

“Ah, her child!” cried the empress, with an emotion of 
jealousy, burying her face in her hands. 

“ The emperor requests your majesty to be so gracious as 
not to let the little king suspect whom he has the honor to 
approach,” whispered Constant. 

“ Ah, she is not to suspect that her child has come to me!” 
murmured Josephine, while fresh tears trickled down her 
cheeks. 

“The emperor, besides, implores your majesty not to 
frighten the prince by a sadness which your majesty, in the 
generosity and kindness of your heart, has so often over- 
come.” 

“Yes,” said the empress, removing her hands from her 


JOSEPHINE. 


419 


face, and hastily drying her tears with her handkerchief, “I 
will not weep. It is true, I have often begged that I might 
see the King of Rome — the child for whom I have suffered so 
much, and to read in his face whether he is worthy of my 
sacrifice. The emperor is so kind as to fulfil my wish ; tell 
him that I am profoundly grateful to him, that I will restrain 
my emotion and not make the prince suspect who I am. Tell 
him that I shall not weep when I see the child of the present 
empress. No, do not tell him that, Constant ; it would grieve 
him — tell him only that I thank him, and that he shall not 
be displeased with me. Go ! I am ready, and shall be happy 
to see the boy. It is not her child, but his that I am to em- 
brace.” And greeting Constant with that inimitable smile 
of grace and kindness peculiar to her, she walked toward the 
reception-room. “How my heart throbs!” she murmured; 
“ it is as if my limbs were failing me — as if I should die.” 
Nearly fainting, she slowly glided through the adjoining 
apartment, and entered the reception-room. “Courage, my 
heart! for it is his child that I am to greet.” Sitting down 
on an easy-chair near the window, she looked in anxiety and 
suspense toward the large folding-doors. 

At length the emperor appeared. Josephine had not seen 
him for nearly a year, and at first her eyes beheld only him. 
She read in his pallid and furrowed face the secret history of 
his sorrows, which he had not, perhaps, communicated to any 
one, but which he could not conceal from the eye of love. 
Unutterable sympathy and tender compassion for him filled 
her soul. And now she almost timidly looked upon the child 
that Napoleon led by the hand. 

How charming was this child ! How proud of him was his 
father! Josephine felt this, and she said almost exultingly 
to herself : “ I have not been sacrificed in vain ! This child is 
an ample indemnity for my tears. I am the boy’s real mother, 
for I have suffered, sorrowed, and prayed for him!” Re- 
joicing in this sentiment, which seemed to restore the beauty 
of former days, Josephine stretched out her arms toward the 
child. 

“ Go, my son, and embrace the lady,” said Napoleon, drop- 
ping the hand of the prince. He advanced, while his father 
stood at the table in the middle of the room, supporting his 
right hand on the marble slab. He looked gravely but kindly 
upon the empress, from whom he felt separated, by the 
presence of his child, as by an impassable gulf. 


420 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


The little prince offered his hand to the empress with a 
smile, and Josephine drew him into her arms, pressing his 
head to her bosom. A sigh, in spite of herself, came from 
the depths of her heart. She slowly bent back the boy’s head 
and gazed at him with a mournful but loving expression. 
Then her glance fell upon the emperor, and, with an inde- 
scribable look of love and tenderness, she said : “ Sire, he is 
like you; God bless him for it!” 

There was something so touching and heartfelt in these 
words — in the tone of her voice, and the glance of her eyes, 
that the emperor was profoundly moved, and responded only 
by a silent nod, not venturing to speak lest the tremor of his 
words should betray his emotion. Even the little king 
seemed to understand the excellent heart of this lady. He 
clung to her and said in a sweet voice, “ I love you, madame, 
and want you to love me, too!” 

“I love you, sire,” cried Josephine, “and shall pray God 
every day to preserve you to your father — to your parents, ” 
she corrected herself with the self-abnegation of a true 
woman. “ You will one day confer happiness on France and 
your people, for you undoubtedly wish to become as good, 
great, and wise, as your father.” 

“ Oh, yes, my papa emperor is very good, and I love him 
dearly !” exclaimed the boy, looking toward his father. “ But, 
papa, why do you not come to us? Why do you not shake 
hands with this dear lady, who is so good and loves me so 
well?” 

“The emperor is generous,” said Josephine, gently; “he 
wished me to have you a moment by yourself, sire ; he has 
you every day, but I have never had you before.” 

“Why did you not come and see me?” asked the child. 
“You live near Paris; and, if you loved me, you would often 
come and see how the little King of Rome is getting on. 
The emperor told me you were a dear and kind-hearted lady, 
and that every one loved you.” 

“Did he tell you so, sire?” exclaimed the empress, drawing 
the boy into her arms. “ Oh, tell the emperor that I shail 
always be grateful to him for it, and that these words will for- 
ever silence my grief.” Her eyes glanced in gratitude to the 
emperor, who softly laid his finger on his mouth, to admonish 
her to be silent and calm. 

The little prince had now, with the facility with which 
children pass from one subject to another, turned his attention 


JOSEPHINE. 


421 


to a large diamond brooch fastened to Josephine’s golden 
sash. “How beautiful it is!” he exclaimed— “ how it is flash- 
ing as though it were a star fallen from heaven, and fastened 
to your breast, because it loves you, madame, and because 
you are so good! And what fine ornaments you have on your 
watch ! Ah, look here, papa emperor ; see those pretty things ! 
Come, papa, and look at them!” 

“No, sire,” said the emperor, with a strange and mournful 
smile, “ let me remain here. I can see all those pretty things 
quite distinctly.” 

“They are very beautiful, are they not?” cried the child. 
“And if—” 

“Well, sire,” asked Josephine, “why do you pause? Pray 
speak!” 

The boy had suddenly assumed a grave air, and gazed upon 
the ornaments of the empress. “ I was just thinking — but 
you will be angry if I tell you what, madame.” 

“ Certainly not, sire; tell me what you thought.” 

“ It occurred to my mind that we met in the forest on our 
way a poor man who looked haggard and wretched, and begged 
us to give him something. But papa and I could not, for we 
had already distributed all our money among the unfortunate 
persons whom we had previously met. Why are there so 
many poor people, madame? — why does my papa emperor not 
order all men to be happy and rich?” 

“Because it is impossible for him to do so, sire,” said 
Josephine. 

“ And because, in order to be able to make others happy, 
we must ourselves be rich!” exclaimed the emperor, smiling. 
“ Now you said yourself, sire, we could not give the poor man 
in the forest any thing, for we had nothing to give him.” 

“Yes, and I was very sorry,” said the boy. “And now I 
was thinking if we sent for the poor man, and you, madame, 
gave him your watch and your diamonds, and he sold them, 
he would have a great deal of money, and be very rich and 
happy.” . 

Josephine pressed the boy tenderly to her heart. “Sire,” 
she said, “ I promise you that I will send for your poor man 
and give him so much money that he will never again be 
wretched.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed the prince, encircling the lady’s neck 
with his arms, “ how good you are, madame, and how I love 
you !” 


422 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Josephine pressed his head to her bosom. “ Oh, you may 
certainly love me a little,” she replied, with a touching smile; 
“ I have really deserved it of you.” 

“Sire,” said the emperor, advancing a few steps, “now bid 
the lady farewell. We must go.” 

“ Papa!” cried the boy, joyously — “papa, we must take the 
dear lady with us; she is so good, and I love her. Let her 
live with us in the Tuileries, and always stay with us. I want 
her to do so, and you, too, papa, do you not?” 

Josephine’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked at the em- 
peror with an expression of unutterable woe. He immediately 
averted his face, perhaps to prevent Josephine from noticing 
his emotion. “ Come, sire,” he said imperiously, “it is high 
time; it is growing dark. Take leave of madame!” 

“ Oh, no; I will not take leave of her!” cried the hoy, vehe- 
mently. “ I say to her rather — Come with us to the Tuileries !” 

“It cannot be, sire,” said Josephine, smiling amidst her 
tears. 

“ Why?” cried the boy, impatiently, and throwing back his 
head. “ Come; you may accompany the emperor, and I want 
you to do so!” 

Napoleon, painfully moved by this scene, quickly advanced 
to the prince, and took his hand. “ Come, sire,” he said in a 
tone so grave that the boy dared no longer resist. Submitting 
to his father’s will, he stepped back, and, pleasantly bowing, 
took leave of the empress. 

“We shall meet again,” said Josephine, and, turning her 
tearful eyes to Napoleon, she asked, “ We shall meet again, 
sire, shall we not?” 

“Yes,” said Napoleon, gravely, “we shall meet again.” 
He then took leave of her with an affectionate look, which 
fell as a sunbeam upon her desolate heart, and, leadiug the 
boy by the hand, turned quickly toward the door. She looked 
after them in silence and with clasped hands. As the door 
opened, the emperor turned again with a parting but melan- 
choly glance. 

Josephine was again alone. With a groan she fell on her 
knees, and lifting her face toward heaven, she cried, “My 
God, protect — preserve him ! Whatever I may suffer, oh, let 
him be happy!” 


TALLEYRAND. 


423 


CHAPTER XLV. 

TALLEYRAND. 

For a week the emperor had scarcely left his cabinet; 
bending over his maps, he anxiously examined the position of 
his army, and that of the constantly advancing allies. Every 
day couriers with news of fresh disasters arrived at Paris; 
rumors of invading armies terrified the citizens, and disturbed 
the emperor’s temper. It was impossible for the government 
to conceal the misfortunes which had befallen France from 
the beginning of the new year. The people knew that Blucher 
had crossed the Rhine, and, victoriously penetrating France, 
on the 16th of January had taken up his quarters at Nancy. 
It was publicly known that a still larger army of the allies, 
commanded by Prince Schwartzenberg, had advanced through 
Switzerland, Lorraine, and Alsace, taken the fortresses, over- 
come all resistance, and that both generals had sworn to ap- 
pear in front of Paris by February, and conquer the capital. 
All Paris knew this, and longed for peace as the only way to 
put an end to the sufferings of the nation. The strength and 
the superiority of the allied army could not be concealed, and 
it was felt to be impossible to expel the powerful invaders. 

Napoleon himself at length saw the necessity of peace, and, 
conquering his proud heart, he sent the Duke de Vicenza, his 
faithful friend Caulaincourt, to the headquarters of the allies, 
to request them to send plenipotentiaries to a peace congress. 
The allies accepted this proposition, but they declared that, 
despite the peace congress, the course of the war could not in 
the least be interrupted ; that the operations in the field must 
be vigorously continued. Napoleon responded to this by de- 
creeing a new conscription, ordering all able-bodied men in 
France to be enrolled in the national armies. The terrors of 
war were, therefore, approaching, and yet Paris was in hope 
that peace would be concluded ; Caulaincourt was still at the 
headquarters of the allies, treating with them about the 
congress. 

Early on the morning of the 23d of January, another dis- 
patch from Caulaincourt to Maret was received at Paris, and 
the minister immediately repaired to the Tuileries, to com- 
municate it to the emperor. This dispatch confirmed all the 


424 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


disastrous tidings which had arrived from day to day, and 
convinced Napoleon and his minister that the vast superiority 
of the allied armies rendered it impossible for the emperor to 
rid his country of the formidable invaders. 

“Maret,” said Napoleon, gloomily, “come and look at this 
map. What do you see here?” 

“ Sire, a number of colored pins extending in all directions.” 

“And a small number of white pins. Well these are my 
troops; the colored pins designate the armies of my enemies. 
They are allied ; but I — I have no longer a single ally at this 
hour; I stand alone, and have to meet eight different armies. 
See here, Maret : there is, in the first place, the grand army 
of the Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, and Wurtembergers, 
commanded by Prince Schwartzenberg, and accompanied by 
the allied monarchs; next, there is the grand Prussian army, 
with the Russian and Saxon corps, under the command of 
Blucher, the hussar; here stand the Swedes under Bernadotte, 
reenforced by Russian and English corps, and the German 
troops of the Confederation of the Rhine ; there comes the 
Anglo-Batavian army; here, farther to the South, is Welling- 
ton’s army, composed of English, Spaniards, and Portuguese; 
there, in Italy, is an Austrian corps under Bellegarde; at no 
great distance from it, the Neapolitan corps under the King 
of Naples; and, finally, here at Lyons, is another Austrian 
corps under Bubna. The armies of Schwartzenberg, Blucher, 
and Bernadotte, are about six hundred thousand strong. And 
now see what forces I have — I cannot call them armies! 
Augereau’s corps is stationed near Lyons; Ney, Marmont, and 
Mortier, are with their corps here between the Meuse and the 
Seine; Sebastiani and Macdonald are with the remnants of 
their corps on the frontier of the Netherlands. Maret, my 
troops are hardly one hundred thousand ; the allies, therefore, 
are six to one.” 

“Sire,” said Maret, “even a military genius like that of 
3 T our majesty, will be unable to cope with such odds, and it 
reflects no dishonor on the bravest to submit to the decrees of 
Fate.” 

“ It is true,” murmured Napoleon, throwing himself into 
his easy-chair, with his arm leaning on the desk, and his head 
bent forward — “ it is true, I have no sufficient force to oppose 
them; their armies are six times as strong as mine, and, un- 
less fortune greatly favors me, I must yield!” 

“ But fortune has forsaken us, sire, and we have no strength 


TALLEYRAND. 


425 


left. YTeld, therefore, sire ; submit to a stern necessity ; com- 
ply with the anxious demand of France; restore peace to 
your people — to the world! Do not endanger, without pros- 
pect of success, your precious life, which is necessary to 
France — your throne, threatened by foreign and domestic 
foes. All is at stake. Save France, save the throne ! Make 
peace at any cost!” 

While Maret was speaking, Napoleon slowly raised his 
head, and sent a flaming glance on his minister. Now that 
Maret was silent, the emperor quickly took up an open book 
from his desk and handed it to Maret. “ I will not answer 
you, duke,” said Napoleon, “but Marmontel shall. Read 
this. Read it aloud.” 

Maret read: “‘I know of nothing more sublime than the 
resolution taken by a monarch living in our times, who would 
be buried under the ruins of his throne rather than accept 
terms to which a king should not listen; he was possessed of 
too proud a soul to descend lower than unavoidable misfor- 
tune. He knew full well that courage may restore strength 
and lustre to a crown, but that cowardice and dishonor never 
can. ’ ” * 

“That is my reply, Maret,” exclaimed Napoleon. “The 
example of Louis XIV. shall teach me to perish rather than 
humiliate myself.” 

“Sire,” said Maret, solemnly, “Marmontel is wrong; there 
is something more sublime than to be buried under the ruins 
of a throne — a king sacrificing his own greatness to the wel- 
fare of a state that must perish with him.” 

“Never!” exclaimed the emperor, impetuously. “I can 
die beneath the ruins of my throne, but I cannot sign my own 
humiliation ! Maret, I have made up my mind : I will con- 
tinue this struggle to the last; I will conquer or die! To- 
morrow I set out for the army. Ah, I want to see whether 
that drunken general of hussars, Blucher, shall not yield to 
me, notwithstanding his crazy cavalry tricks; whether 
Schwartzenberg, my faithless pupil, who had learned the art 
of war from me, will meet me in a pitched battle; and 
whether Bernadotte, my rebellious subject, dare look me in 
the face. Maret, the decisive struggle is at hand. I will 
take the field, save Paris, and conquer the enemy. I must 
call upon all the men of France to defend the sacred soil of 
our country, and convert every house into a castle, every 

* Marmontel, “Grandeur et Decadence des Romains,” ch. v. 

28 


426 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


village into a fortress, so that my enemies shall have to wrest 
every inch of ground from us at a vast sacrifice. Not another 
word about peace! Every thing is ready. Troops are hurry- 
ing forward from Spain to fill up my army ; in a few days they 
will be here. Between the Seine and the Marne all my forces 
will unite and put a stop to the advance of the allies upon 
Paris. We shall occupy a position by which it will be easy 
for us to divide, disperse, and crush the enemy. Here, in the 
plain between these rivers, I shall march along the Aube, 
scatter the allied army, hurl most of my troops at one of its 
wings, and, by skilful manoeuvres, compel the other wing 
to fall back. The enemy must retreat; I shall profit by it, 
and when I have gained a great battle over him, I can im- 
pose my own terms; I have then conquered an honorable peace 
for France — one that we can subscribe to without blushing. 
Ah, I see a brilliant future! It is time to begin. My eagles 
are ascending; they are not ravens or bats — they are soaring 
to the sun.” As the emperor uttered these words his soul 
illuminated his face; he was again the conqueror, confiding 
in his star. 

Maret looked anxiously, but admiringly, at Napoleon’s 
face, in which great resolutions were beaming, and he read 
there an assurance and determination that nothing could 
change. “You have made up your mind, then, sire: the 
war is to go on, and the peace congress is not to meet?” 

“On the contrary,” exclaimed Napoleon, smiling, “let it 
meet, if the allies wish it. While Caulaincourt, Metternich, 
and Hardenberg, are dictating terms of peace with their pens, 
we shall do so with our swords, and we shall soon see which 
will make the more progress. But let us now commence with 
some movements of peace. We must be on good terms with 
Spain and Rome. Let Ferdinand return as King to Spain, 
and as such become my ally. I shall also open the doors of 
Pope Pius’s prison at Fontainebleau; let him return as pope 
to Rome, and, as God’s vicegerent, be on my side. Maret, 
here are already two allies. In order to conquer, but one is 
wanting; and it is for you, Maret, to procure it.” 

“Sire, what is the name of this ally?” asked the Duke de 
Bassano, in amazement. 

“ Money ! money ! and, for the third time, money ! Procure 
me five millions in cash, and I can add one hundred thousand 
men to my army.” 

“Ah, sire, our chests are empty!” sighed Maret. 


TALLEYRAND. 


427 


*‘But I must have money,” replied Napoleon, vehemently. 

“ Without it no war can he waged — no victory gained. Five 
millions, Maret; I need them; I must have them!” 

Maret looked thoughtful. Suddenly his face kindled, and 
his whole frame shook with joy. “ Sire, your majesty asks for 
five millions?” 

“Yes, five millions, to begin with.” 

“ Well, then, sire, I can tell you where to find them, and 
perhaps more.” 

“ Where?” 

“ Sire, will you pledge me your imperial word not to betray 
that it was I who told you where to find this money?” 

“Certainly, Maret.” 

“ Listen, sire ; but permit me to whisper what I do not wish 
even the walls to hear.” He bent close to the emperor’s ear. 

Napoleon listened with breathless attention, and nodded 
repeatedly. “ You really believe this to be true, Maret?” he 
then asked, eagerly. 

“ Sire, I affirm it to be true. It is a secret known only to 
three persons ! It was betrayed to me to gain me over by an 
act of treachery — but that is altogether another matter; the 
fact is sufficient.” 

“ And this fact is, that I shall find with my mother the 
millions that I need?” said the emperor. “Maret, if that 
is so, I shall have them this very day.” 

“ Your majesty believes so? Madame Letitia — ” 

“ My mother is avaricious, you wish to say? It is true, her 
extreme economy has often vexed me; to-day it gladdens my 
heart; for, thanks to her parsimony, I shall find with her 
what I need for my army. She will deny these millions to 
me, to be sure; but you told me where to look for them, and 
I pledge you my word I know how to find and take them ! 
Hush, not another word! I shall have what I want within 
an hour. Go now, Maret. You will meet the Prince de 
Benevento in the antechamber. Send him to me. I have to 
address a few parting words to M. de Talleyrand.” 

The emperor stood in the middle of the magnificently fur- , 
nished cabinet when the Prince de Benevento slowly opened 
the door and entered. The prince bore the emperor’s piercing 
look with a perfectly composed air. Not a feature of his 
aristocratic countenance expressed any anxiety and his smile 
did not for an instant vanish from his lips. With a sort of 
careless bearing he approached the emperor, who allowed him 


428 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


to come near liim, still watching every expression of his coun- 
tenance. 

“ I wished to see you,” he said, “ in order to tell you that I 
shall set out for the army the day after to-morrow.” Talley- 
rand bowed, but made no reply. “ Do you desire to accom- 
pany me?” asked the emperor, vehemently. 

“ Sire, what should I do at the headquarters of the army?” 
said Talleyrand, shrugging his shoulders. “ Your majesty 
knows well that I could be of very little service in the army — 
that I am able only to wield the pen.” 

“ And the tongue !” added Napoleon. “ But before leaving 
Paris I will give you some wholesome advice; bridle both your 
tongue and your pen a little better than you have done of 
late. I know that you will not shrink from any treachery, and 
that you are the first rat that will desert the sinking ship; but 
consider what you are doing. The ship is not yet in danger, 
and, spreading her sails, she will move proudly on her way.” 

“I hope she will have favorable winds and deepwater,” 
said Talleyrand, bowing carelessly. 

Napoleon looked at him with hatred and rage. These 
equivocal words — the calm, cold tone in which they were ut- 
tered, disturbed the emperor, and his blood boiled. “ I believe 
in the sincerity of your wish,” he said, “although there are 
many who assert that you are a traitor. I have given you fair 
warning; now’ prove to those who are accusing you, that they 
are doing you injustice. No intrigues! You will be closely 
watched. Beware!” Talleyrand bowed again, and his face 
still retained its indifferent, smiling expression. “ Listen now 
to what I have to say,” added Napoleon. “ Prior to my de- 
parture I desire to put an end to the dissensions with Rome 
and Spain. The pope will leave Fontainebleau to-morrow and 
return to Rome. The Infante of Spain, too, is at liberty to 
return to his country and ascend the throne of his ancestors. 
Go to-morrow to Yalengay. It was you who conveyed Fer- 
dinand thither; you must, therefore, open the doors of his 
prison that you locked.” 

“ Sire, I thank your majesty for the favor which you desire 
to confer on me,” said Talleyrand, gravely. “ But it was not 
I who arrested the sacred person of the legitimate King of 
Spain ; it was not I who dared to deprive him of his rights — 
nay, his very liberty. I acted only as the obedient servant of 
my master, for your majesty’s orders made me the jailer of 
the Infante of Spain.” 


TALLEYRAND. 


420 


Napoleon approached Talleyrand, and his flaming eyes 
seemed to pierce his soul. “What!” he shouted, in a loud 
voice. “ You wish to give yourself now the semblance of in- 
nocence in this affair? What! You only executed my orders, 
and I made you the jailer of the infante! Who was it, then, 
that urged me to do this? Who was it that told me it was 
indispensable for me to crush the head of this Spanish hydra? 
Who wished even to persuade me to more energetic measures 
than imprisonment, in order to get rid of the royal family of 
Spain? Who told me at that time that it would be wiser and 
better for the welfare of Europe to cut the Gordian knot in- 
stead of untying it? Do you remember who did all this?” 

Talleyrand made no reply. His countenance still exhibiting 
the same indifferent composure, he seemed scarcely to have 
heard the rebukes of the emperor. His head slightly bent 
forward, his eyes half closed, his lips compressed, he stood 
leaning with one hand on the back of a chair, and with the 
other playing with his lace-frill. This conduct greatly 
augmented the emperor’s anger. “ Will you reply to me?” 
thundered Napoleon, stamping the floor, and so near to Talley- 
rand’s foot that the prince softly drew it back. “Will you 
reply to me?” 

Talleyrand looked at the emperor with immovable calmness. 
“Sire,” he said, slowly, “I do not know what your majesty 
means.” 

“You do not know what I mean?” echoed Napoleon. “If 
you do not, listen!” Unable longer to overcome his anger, 
he advanced toward Talleyrand, and the prince drew back. 
As if beside himself, the emperor raised his clinched fists, and 
held them toward the prince’s face, moving through the large 
room, while Talleyrand, looking the emperor full in the face, 
retreated, taking care to get nearer the door. 

“I will tell you that you are a traitor,” cried Napoleon, 
rushing forward — “ a traitor who would like to deny to-day 
what he did yesterday, because he believes that another era is 
dawning, and that he must betray his master before the cock 
crows for the first time. You wish to deny that it was you 
who urged me to imprison the Spanish prince? You are im- 
pudent enough to tell me that to my face?” So saying, the 
emperor’s clinched fists almost touched the cheek of the 
prince, who was still receding, and now noticed with a feel- 
ing of relief that he had reached the end of his dangerous 
promenade. 


430 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Do you really dare deny your past in so barefaced a man- 
ner?” cried Napoleon, still holding his fist so close to Talley- 
rand’s cheek that he almost felt it. 

The prince softly put his hand behind his back, and for- 
tunately succeeded in seizing the door-knob. He opened the 
door with a hasty jerk so wide that the gentlemen assembled 
in the anteroom enjoyed the spectacle of Napoleon with up- 
lifted fists threatening his minister. 

“ Sire,” said Talleyrand, in a calm voice, “ I shall not dare 
say any thing; for I know of no reply to what your majesty 
has said.” The prince pointed with a sarcastic smile to the 
clinched fists of the emperor, and, without complying with 
the requirements of usual ceremony, he hastened, more rapidly 
than his lame foot generally permitted him to do, through 
the antechamber, saluting the gentlemen as he passed with a 
wave of his hand and a smile. On stepping into the outer 
room he accelerated his pace, gliding down-stairs as softly as 
a cat, and hurrying across the hall to his carriage. 

“Home,” he said aloud, “at a gallop!” AVhen the horses 
started, Talleyrand leaned back, and said to himself, “This 
was our last adieu ! I shall take good care not to meet Napo- 
leon again, provided he is stupid enough to give me time for 
making my dispositions.” 

The emperor in the mean time, half ashamed of himself, 
reentered the cabinet, and locked the door. Angry as a lion 
in his cage, he paced to and fro with quick steps, when sud- 
denly a gentle voice behind him said, “ Sire, pray be so gra- 
cious as to listen to me!” 

The emperor turned with an angry gesture, and saw the 
Duke de Rovigo standing near the open door of the ante- 
chamber. “Well, Savary, what do yo want?” he asked in a 
faint voice. “ Shut the door, and come here. Speak! What 
do you want?” 

“ Sire, to implore you to be on your guard,” said the duke. 
“ Your majesty has just had a violent scene with the Prince 
de Benevento.” 

“ Who told^you so?” 

“ Sire, we could distinctly hear your majesty’s voice in the 
antechamber; and, when the prince opened the door, the rest, 
like myself, saw your threatening attitude. In an hour all 
Paris will know it.” 

“ Well?” 

“ Sire, the Prince de Benevento is not the man to forget an 


TALLEYRAND. 


431 


insult, and it will mortify him doubly tha the world will hear 
of it.” 

“ Let it mortify him!” cried Napoleon. “ All of you have 
insinuated to me that Talleyrand is a traitor, deserving pun- 
ishment. I have chastised him; that is all.” 

“ Sire, the chastisement was either too severe, or not severe 
enough,” said Savary, gravely. “ Had it been too severe, the 
generous heart of your majesty would think of offering him 
some satisfaction; but I know Talleyrand, and am firmly con- 
vinced of the truth of my statement — I pronounce him a 
plotter of dangerous intrigues. Your majesty therefore can- 
not chastise him too severely; and, having gone so far, you 
must now go still farther.” 

“ How so? What do you mean?” 

“ Sire, I mean that your majesty, instead of allowing the 
Prince de Benevento to return home, ought to send him to 
Vincennes, and recommend him to the special care of your 
friend General Daumesnil.” 

“Ah, I ought to have him arrested!” cried Napoleon, 
shrugging his shoulders. “ I ought to make a martyr out of 
a traitor!” 

“ No, sire, punish a traitor, neither more nor less! I know 
that Talleyrand is one. He is in secret communication with 
the legitimists, corresponding with the Bourbons, through 
other hands; at his house, meetings of malcontents and 
secret royalists are held every day; there the fires are kindled 
that will soon burst into devouring energy, unless your majesty 
extinguish them in time. You have disdained to regain 
Talleyrand by promises or honors. You have insulted him, 
and he will revenge himself, if the power of doing so be left 
him. Sire, I venture to remind your majesty of Machiavel, 
‘One ought never to make half an enemy.’ ” 

“ It is true,” murmured Napoleon to himself, thoughtfully, 
“nothing is more dangerous than such half enmities. Under 
the mask of friendship they betray us the more surely.” 

“ Hence, sire, pray tear this mask from Talleyrand’s treach- 
erous face. Meet him as an open enemy. Then either his 
enmity will be destroyed by terror, or he will betray his in- 
tentions.” 

“I lack proof to convict him,” said Napoleon, in a hesi- 
tating and wavering tone. 

“Well, yes,” exclaimed Savary, “you have no proof, but 
there cannot be the least doubt as to the intrigues which he is 


4a2 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


bold enough to plot. The opportunity is too favorable that 
he should not endeavor to embrace it. Sire, I should like to 
urge the example of the great police-minister of Louis XV. 
Whenever* M. de Sartines was on the eve of a festival, or any 
great public ceremony, he sent for all suspicious persons to 
whom his attention w r as particularly directed, and said to 
them, ‘I have no charge against you at present, but to-morrow 
it may be different. Habit you know has power over you, and 
you are unlikely to resist temptation. It would be incumbent 
upon me to treat you with extreme rigor. For your sake, as 
well as mine, be kind enough therefore to repair for a few days 
to a prison, the choice of which I leave to yourselves. ’ The 
suspected persons willingly complied with his request, and 
no arrests were made.” 

“You may be right; M. de Sartines was undoubtedly a 
sagacious police-minister,” said the emperor, musingly. “ His 
precaution is good for those who are afraid ; but I am not ! 
If I- conquer my enemies, I thereby trample in the dust this 
vile serpent, too, that would sting me, and then would crawl 
as a worm at my feet. If I yield to my enemies, let the 
structure which I have built fall upon me. It will not matter 
then whether Talleyrand’s hand, too, broke off a piece of the 
wall or not; it would have fallen without him. Hot another 
word about it, Savary! My carriage — I will ride to my 
mother!” 

'On the evening of the same day, the Prince de Benevento 
left his palace, entered a hackney-coach, and was driven to 
one of the remote streets of the Faubourg St. Germain. He 
stopped in front of a small, mean-looking house; and, when 
the coach had gone, the prince knocked three times in a 
peculiar manner at the street door. It opened, and he cau- 
tiously entered. No one was to be seen in the lighted hall; 
but Talleyrand seemed perfectly familiar with the locality; 
and crossing, without hesitation, a long passage, he ascended 
the thickly-carpeted staircase. Here was another locked door, 
beside which was a bell, which the prince rang three times. 
The door was opened, and he walked through a long corridor. 
The passage widened, and the prince was now in a brilliant 
hall, decorated with paintings and gildings. The entrance 
through the small house was plainly but a circuitous road to 
one of the palaces of the Faubourg St. Germain where the 
royalists were plotting mischief. At the end of this hall was 
a portiere, in front of which was a richly-liveried footman. 


TALLEYRAND. 


433 


Talleyrand whispered a few words; the servant bowed and 
opened the door. The prince now entered a saloon, furnished 
in the most magnificent and tasteful style, where another 
liveried attendant was waiting. “ The Countess du Cayla?” 
asked the Prince de Benevento. 

“ She is in her cabinet. Shall I announce your highness?” 

“ It is unnecessary.” 

He quickly approached and knocked softly at the door of 
the cabinet. A sweet voice bade him come in. Before him 
stood a young lady who welcomed him with a charming smile, 
but with an air of ill-concealed amazement. “ Oh, the Prince 
de Benevento!” she exclaimed, merrily. “You come to me 
to-day ; but yesterday, when I went to you to bring you greet- 
ings from our august master, King Louis XVIII., you feigned 
not to understand whom I wished to speak of, and imposed 
silence.” 

“ To-day I come to make amends for what I did yesterday, 
countess,” said Talleyrand, with his graceful kindness. “ Be 
good enough to inform his majesty King Louis XVIII. that 
he may henceforth count upon my services and my zealous de- 
votedness. I shall assist him in opening the road to Paris, 
and do all I can that his majesty may soon be able to make 
his entrance into the capital of his kingdom.” 

“ Then you have forsaken Napoleon openly and unre- 
servedly !” exclaimed the Countess du Cayla, the zealous agent 
of the Count de Lille, whom at that time none but the royal- 
ists secretly called King Louis XVIII. “You are, then, one 
of us, now and forever?” 

“Yes, I consider myself a member of your party,” said 
Talleyrand, “ and at heart I was always one of the most faith- 
ful and zealous servants of the king. I can prove it, for it 
was I who led Napoleon, step by step, frequently even in spite 
of his reluctance, to the brink of ruin, on which he is stand- 
ing now, and I am ready to give him a last thrust to plunge 
him into the abyss. The emperor has been guilty of great 
folly to-day. He ought to have had me arrested, but he failed 
to do so. For this mistake I shall punish him by profiting by 
my liberty in the service of his majesty the king. Let us 
consider, therefore, countess, what we ought to do for the 
speedy return of King Louis XVIII. to Paris.” 

“Yes, let us consider that,” exclaimed the countess; “and 
if you have no objection, prince, we shall allow the faithful 
friends of his majesty to participate in the consultation. Up- 


434 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ward of one hundred friends are already assembled in the large 
saloon, and they are doubtless astonished at my prolonged ab- 
sence. Come, prince! You will meet an old friend among 
your new friends.” 

“ Who is it, countess?” 

“The Duke d’Otranto!” 

“ What? Is he here? Has he dared to return?” 

“ He has, with the emperor’s sister, the Princess Eliza 
Bacciochi ; and he is believed to be with her in the south of 
France, in order to await the course of events. But he has 
secretly and in disguise come to Paris, in order, like you, to 
otfer his services to King Louis. Late events seem to have 
converted him into a very zealous royalist, and he openly ad- 
mits his conversion. He boasts of having said to the Princess 
Eliza: ‘Madame, there is but one way of salvation: the em- 
peror must be killed on the spot.* ’ ” 

“ In truth, he is right,” said Talleyrand, smiling; “that 
would speedily put an end to all embarrassments. Well, the 
emperor intends to join the army; perhaps, a hostile bullet 
may become our ally, and save us further trouble. If not, 
we shall speak of the matter hereafter. Permit me, countess, 
to conduct you to the saloon.” 


CHAPTER X L V I. 

MADAME LETITIA. 

Profound silence reigned in the palace of u Madame Mere.” 
It was noonday, and the male and female servants, as well as 
the ladies of honor of the emperor’s mother, had left the 
palace to take elsewhere the dinner which Madame Letitia 
refused to give them, and for which she paid them every 
month a ridiculously small sum ; only the two cooks, whom 
madame, notwithstanding her objections, had to keep, in com- 
pliance with the express orders of the emperor, were in the 
kitchen, but under the vigilant supervision of old Cordelia, 
the faithful servant who had accompanied madame from Cor- 
sica to France, and who, since then, notwithstanding all vicis- 
situdes, had remained her companion. Cordelia not only 
watched the cooks and gave them what was needed for pre- 
paring the meals, but, as soon as the dishes were handed to 

* “M6moires du Due de Rovigo,” vol. vi., p. 352. 


MADAME LETITIA. 


435 


the servant who was to carry them to the table, she hastened 
after him in order to prevent him from putting anything 
aside. When Cordelia went with the servant, she opened, 
with an air of self-importance, a cupboard fixed in the wall of 
the corridor, near the dining-oom, of which she alone pos- 
sessed the key, and, as soon as the servant returned with the 
fragments of the dinner, she locked them in this cupboard 
with the wine and bread ; only on Sundays did the dinner- table 
of Madame Mere provide any thing for the servants. 

To-day, however, was not Sunday, and hence Madame Cor- 
delia herself had placed a bottle, half filled with wine remain- 
ing from yesterday’s dinner, on the table, at which no one 
but Madame Letitia was to seat herself, one of the ladies of 
honor, who always dined with her, having been excused on 
account of indisposition. Madame Letitia was therefore alone 
to-day; it was unnecessary for her to submit to the restraint 
of etiquette, and she yielded with genuine relief to an un- 
wonted freedom. She was in her sitting-room, busily engaged 
in taking from a large basket, the plebeian appearance of which 
contrasted strangely with the magnificent Turkish carpet on 
which it stood, the folded clothes which the washerwoman 
had just delivered. The appearance of Madame Mere her- 
self was also in some contrast with the gorgeous surroundings 
amid which she moved. 

The room was furnished with princely magnificence, the 
walls being hung with heavy satin, and curtains of the same 
description, adorned with gold embroideries, suspended on 
both sides of the high windows; the richly-carved chairs and 
sofas were covered with purple velvet, and the tables had 
marble slabs of Florentine workmanship. A chandelier of 
rock-crystal hung in solid gold chains from the ceiling; 
masterly paintings in broad, rich frames were on the silken 
walls; Japan vases stood on gilded consoles, and numerous 
costly ornaments added to the splendor of the aristocratic 
apartment. 

Madame Letitia, standing beside the wash-basket, presented 
a marked contrast with all this. Her tall figure was wrapped 
in a light white muslin dress trimmed below with rosettes, 
and from which protruded a rather large foot, covered with a 
cotton stocking, and encased in a coarse, worn-out shoe. A 
sash of rose-colored silk, with faded embroidery, encircled her 
waist; a lace shawl, crossed over her bosom, and tied in a 
careless knot on her back, enveloped her neck and full shoul- 


436 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ders. Her hair, falling down in heavy gray ringlets, was sur- 
mounted by a sort of turban, and a large bouquet of artificial 
roses, fastened above her forehead, was her only ornament. 

There was nothing therefore imposing in the appearance of 
the emperor’s mother; but still there was something noble 
about her, and that was her face. It was of imperishable 
beauty; its outlines were classic and of great dignity, and 
her eyes, which were of the deep, incomparable color which 
she had bequeathed to her son the emperor, possessed still the 
lustre of youth ; her lips were fresh, and her teeth faultless ; 
not a single wrinkle furrowed her forehead, and her finely- 
curved nose added to the imperious expression of her features. 
The whole bearing of Madame Letitia indicated a lofty and 
yet a gentle spirit. He who beheld only this form, with its 
strange dress, could not refrain from smiling ; but a glance at 
the beautiful and dignified face filled the beholder with feel- 
ings of reverence and admiration. 

Madame Letitia, as we have said, was engaged in unpacking 
the clothes just returned by the laundress. This was an oc- 
cupation which she never intrusted to any of her attendants, 
but in which she could generally engage only secretly and at 
night, after she had dismissed them; for the emperor made it 
incumbent on his mother’s ladies of honor to observe the 
strictest etiquette, and forbade her to occupy herself with 
affairs improper for the mother of an emperor. Hence, 
Madame Letitia was obliged, for the most part, to lead the 
life of an aristocratic lady, embroider a little, ride out, have 
her companions read to her, receive visitors, and pass the day 
in ennui. Only at night, when the ladies left the palace — 
when etiquette permitted Madame Letitia to retire with her 
maid Cordelia into her bedroom — only then commenced her 
active life. At that time madame conversed with her con- 
fidantes about her household affairs ; she decided what dishes 
should be prepared for the following day, and, when all were 
asleep and she was sure of being watched by no one, she pro- 
ceeded with her faithful Cordelia to the cupboard of the cor- 
ridor to examine the remnants saved from dinner, and to de- 
cide whether they might not be served up again. 

On this day she was free from the restraints of etiquette. 
The lady on service had been taken ill; and her second lady 
of honor, not anticipating such an event, had obtained leave 
to take a trip to Versailles. Madame Letitia, therefore, was 
at liberty to dispose of her time as she pleased ; she could 


MADAME LETITIA. 


437 


fearlessly indulge in occupations entirely contrary to etiquette, 
and she embraced this rare opportunity in the course of the 
forenoon of examining the clothes, which otherwise would have 
had this honor only after nightfall. But the consequence 
was, that the usually serene forehead of Madame Letitia grew 
dark, because she was by no means satisfied with the perform- 
ance of her laundress. Just as her busy hands took up an- 
other piece from the basket and unfolded it, the door behind 
her opened. She heard it, but did not turn, knowing very 
well that it was Cordelia who entered her room, for no one 
else had the right of taking such a liberty without being duly 
and formally announced. 

“ Cordelia,” she exclaimed, “Cordelia, come and look at 
these towels of the cook ; all of them are already threadbare, 
and it is but a year since I bought them. You ought to tell 
the cook very emphatically that she should he more careful 
and not ruin my towels. Do you hear, Cordelia?” 

“ Cordelia is not here,” said a grave, angry voice behind her. 
Madame Letitia started, and a deep blush suffused her cheeks. 
Close behind her stood the emperor, fixing his stern eyes on 
his mother. 

“ The emperor!” she murmured, yielding to the first move- 
ment of terror, and sinking back on her chair.” 

“Yes, the emperor!” said Napoleon, approaching and cast- 
ing angry glances on the clothes spread out on the table. 
“ The emperor pays a visit to his mother, and finds to his 
amazement that little respect is felt here for his orders, and 
that it is deemed unnecessary to comply with his wishes. Ah, 
madame, how can the emperor expect the people to obey him 
everywhere and unconditionally, when his own family set an 
example of disobedience, and openly show that the emperor’s 
orders are indifferent to them?” 

“ When have I shown indifference to them?” asked Madame 
Letitia, casting a despairing glance on the basket. 

“You show it at this very hour,” said the emperor, sternly, 
“ and every thing proves that you are in the habit of disobey- 
ing my wishes. I met with no footmen in the outer ante- 
chamber; I did not see the chamberlain of your imperial high- 
ness in the adjoining room.” 

“ It is noonday, and they have gone to dinner.” 

“ Ah, it is true, your imperial highness directs your court 
to take their meals at other houses,” exclaimed the emperor, 
with a sarcastic smile. “You are paying board-money to 


438 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the chamberlain, the valet de chambre, and the footman, so 
that it is unnecessary for you to feed them. But where is your 
waiting-lady, madame? Did I not issue orders that etiquette 
should be observed at my mother’s palace, and that your impe- 
rial highness should always have your lady of honor with you?” 

“ The Duchess d’Abrantes was suddenly taken sick this 
morning, and had to return to her house.” 

“ In that case the second lady of honor ought to have taken 
her place.” 

“ Yesterday I gave permission to the Countess de Castries 
to go to a family-festival to be celebrated at Versailles, and 
she went early this morning.” 

“Every thing, then, is here just as it ought to be!” cried 
the emperor, indignantty, thrusting the basket with his foot. 
“ It is in strict accordance with my wishes that your house is 
empty, that you are so occupied, that you are alone, and that 
there was no one to announce my visit?” 

“ But Cordelia certainly was there, and quite ready to at- 
tend to this. ” 

“Yes, she was,” cried the emperor, “and it is true she 
wished to do me that honor. But I would not allow her, and 
preferred coming to you without being announced. In truth, 
it would be too ludicrous if the old Sibyl had served the em- 
peror as mistress of ceremonies.” 

“ She formerly did him far greater and more difficult ser- 
vice,” said Madame Letitia, in a firm and calm voice, for she 
had fully recovered her presence of mind, and, rising from 
her easy-chair, proudly bridled herself up and turned toward 
the emperor her face, which now had resumed its expression 
of noble dignity and composure. 

“ When I first saw your countenance,” she said, calmly, “ I 
was frightened, and greeted you in my terror as the emperor. 
Pardon me for it! I ought to have remembered that when 
the emperor crosses the threshold of this house, he ceases to 
be emperor, and is simply Napoleon- Bonaparte, who, as it 
behooves a son, comes to pay his respects to his mother. 
Hence, I ought to have greeted you at once as my son, and 
if I did not, it was because I was frightened, for I am not ac- 
customed to see any one enter here without being announced. 
Now, I have overcome my terror, I bid you welcome with all 
my heart, my dear son!” She offered her hand to Napoleon 
so proudly that the emperor, scarcely aware of what he did, 
pressed the small white hand of his mother to his lips. 


MADAME LETITIA. 


439 


A gentle smile lit up the beautiful face of Madame Letitia. 
“I forgive you also your vehement words, my son,” she said; 
“ and how could I be angry with you for forgetting for a 
moment that you are here only my son, when I myself re- 
membered only that you are the emperor? Let us, therefore, 
make peace again. Napoleon, my son, I bid you welcome 
once more with all my heart.” 

“ Even, my mother, if I should come to ask my dinner of 
you?” inquired the emperor, smiling. 

Madame Letitia was silent for a moment. “Even then!” 
she said, after a pause. “ My son will be content with what I 
am able to give, and he will pardon an old woman, who at- 
taches little value to the pleasures of the table, if she has, on 
account of her health, but a very plain dinner.” 

“ That is to say, we shall have the national dish of Corsica 
— rice dumplings baked in oil!” exclaimed the emperor, 
laughing. 

“So it is,” said madame, merrily. “Ah, I see my son has 
not forgotten his native Corsica; then he will also have a kind 
look for poor old Cordelia, who, both in good and evil days, 
has been the most faithful and honest servant of our house, 
who frequently carried Napoleon Bonaparte for whole days in 
her arms, and when he was sick sat at his bedside and nursed 
him with the tenderness of a mother. I will tell Cordelia to 
take this basket away, and inform the cook that we have a 
guest.” She rang the bell; the door of the adjoining room 
opened immediately, and old Cordelia entered. She stood 
still at the door, and cast mournful glances, now on Madame 
Letitia, now on the emperor. 

“ Well, Cordelia, do you not greet my son?” asked madame. 
“ He is not the emperor to-day, but comes incognito as my 
son to ask dinner of me.” 

“And listen, dear Delia,” said the emperor, speaking to 
her in the voice of a child — “ listen, dear old Cordelia; after- 
ward let us go and play, and gather shells on the sea-shore. 
Shall we do so, ’Lia?” 

An air of unutterable happiness illuminated the face of old 
Cordelia when Napoleon repeated to her, in the voice of his 
childhood, the words which he had so often addressed to her. 
She rushed toward him, and, sinking down before him, seized 
both his hands and pressed them to her lips. “Now do with 
me what you like, Napoleon,” she cried, in the language of 
her native country, while the tears were rolling down her 


440 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


cheeks, “ I belong to you again, with every drop of my heart’s 
blood. Trample me under foot, strike me, kick me, as you 
often did during your childhood — I shall never murmur. I 
am as a faithful dog, who allows himself to be beaten, and 
yet loves his master to the last!” 

“ Yes, she is as constant as the sea that washes the shores 
of our native country,” said madame, with a tear in her eye. 
“ You may count on both of us, Napoleon, and if there is 
power in our prayers you will always be victorious.” 

The emperor’s face darkened. He had forgotten every 
thing for a moment ; but he soon recollected himself. In order 
to be victorious and prosperous he needed not only soldiers 
but money, and he had come for the purpose of obtaining this 
from his mother. He disengaged his hands from those of old 
Cordelia, and motioned her to rise. She obeyed in silence, 
quietly took up the clothes, and carried them olf in the basket. 

“See that we soon have dinner,” said madame to her. 
Cordelia turned and looked inquiringly at her mistress, who 
nodded to her; Cordelia nodded, too, and went out smiling. 

A quarter of an hour afterward, the emperor conducted his 
loving mother to the dining-table, at wdiich none other than 
themselves were to be seated. When they entered, the em- 
peror’s eyes glided with a strange, searching look along the 
paintings hanging on the walls, and rested for a moment on 
the landscape which, in a broad gilded frame, was directly op- 
posite; then a faint smile flitted over his features, and he 
turned toward his mother to address a few pleasant words to 
her. 

The dinner commenced, as the emperor anticipated, with 
Corsican rice dumplings baked in oil. He partook of them 
with great relish, and this favorite dish of his childhood seemed 
to have restored his good humor. “ I believe,” he said, gayly, 

“ I am still able to read as well in your face, mother, as I 
could when I was a boy, and took pains to discover whether 
or not I had deserved punishment for some naughty prank. I 
believe I have understood your mute dialogue with Cordelia. 
Will you confess the truth to me if I tell you what Cordelia’s 
glances and your nod signified?” 

“ Yes, if you guess it.” 

“Well, then, mother, did not Cordelia inquire by her 
glances whether she was to send to the baker for bread, and 
whether the remnant of yesterday’s dinner should not be 
served again in honor of my presence? And did not your 


MADAME LETITIA. 


441 


nod reply, ‘Yes?’ Was not that the meaning of it? Do I 
guess right?” 

“Yes, my son,” said mad ame, smiling; “I see that my 
haughty daughters Pauline and Eliza have made you familiar 
with the habits of my household.” 

“ They have, ” exclaimed Napoleon. “ They told me Madame 
Mere had every day only three loaves of white bread brought 
from the baker for herself and Cordelia.” 

“ They told you the truth ; all my officers and servants receive 
their board -money, and three loaves are sufficient for us two. 
Ah, my son, how happy would you have often been, when still a 
lieutenant, had you had only one of the three loaves every day !” 

“Eliza told me still other things,” said Napoleon, casting 
a glance toward the large oil painting. “ She told me you 
had, like all honest bourgeoises, your water-carrier, who fur- 
nished every day six buckets of water.” 

“ Eliza told you the truth again. It is still the same water- 
carrier whom we employed when we lived in the Faubourg St. 
Iionore; he is a faithful and honest man; why, then should I 
withdraw thisTittle patronage from him?” 

“ But you pay him no more for his water, now that you are 
the emperor’s mother, than you did when you were a poor 
widow with nine children.” 

“ God makes the water flow, and it is the same now as then. 
Why should I, then, pay more for it?” 

“Eliza told me, also,” added the emperor, dwelling with 
singular perseverance on the same subject, “ that, instead of 
collecting a library, and buying the books you read, you have 
subscribed to the bookseller Benard’s circulating library.” 

“ There are very few books that deserve the honor of being 
bought,” said madame, in a dignified tone. 

“And is it true, too,” asked the emperor, “that you have 
the books brought by the bookseller’s clerk to you every week 
the year round, and that you have the same exchanged by 
your servants during only New-Year’s week, in order thereby 
to avoid giving a New-Year’s present to the clerk?” 

“It is true,” said madame, calmly. “This clerk is not 
poor, nor the father of a family; I avoid, therefore, giving 
him the money which I prefer giving to poor men.” 

“But, madame,” cried Napoleon, angrily, “you really sur- 
pass Harpagon, and Moliere has cause to complain that he 
did not know you.” * 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide Le Normand, vol. ii., p. 451. 

29 


442 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ Moli&re has assuredly cause to deplore that he did not live 
at the present time,” said madame, quietly, “for if he lived 
now, he would have seen on the throne of Prance a prince 
who is even greater and more illustrious than his own Louis 
XIV. And he would have certainly been glad to make my 
acquaintance, as I am the mother of this great man.” 

“ The mother of an emperor, and yet living so parsimoni- 
ously that one might believe your son suffered you to starve ! 
And still, if I am not mistaken, you receive a million francs 
a year for defraying the expenses of your court. Am I right, 
mother?” 

“ Yes, my son; I receive a million francs a year.” 

“Ah, madame,” cried the emperor, “then you must, con- 
sidering your economy, lay by riches every year?” 

Madame Letitia’s face was serious ; the emperor had touched 
a chord unpleasant to her ear. 

“No,” she said, abruptly, “I lay by no riches, for my ex- 
penses are heavy.” 

“ But your income is larger,” exclaimed Napoleon. “ I am 
satisfied that you spend far less than you receive. Whom do 
you economize for, madame?” 

“Whom?” asked madame, in an angry voice. “I might 
say for myself, for my future, for that is uncertain, and one 
is never able to know what may happen. But, in addition to 
myself, I have to take care of your brother Lucien, for your 
majesty knows well that he is poor.” 

“ Because he would not accept the kingdom which I offered 
to him.” 

“ Because, as a king, he would not be a dependent vassal, 
the mere lieutenant of his brother. What, sire! Would you 
accept a kingdom offered to you on condition that you should 
'never have a will of your own, but always obey that of another?” 

“I would not,” said the emperor, smiling; “but I am the 
emperor.” 

“ You are Lucien’s brother, and he is no less proud than 
the emperor. Let us say no more about it. He is poor; that 
was all I wished to say. He is unable to endow his daughters, 
and I have, therefore, taken this upon myself. You know 
now, my son, what my savings are for.” 

“But I am just as well your son as Lucien,” said the em- 
peror, in a bland voice; “you may very well have laid by 
money for both of your sons. I am in the same predicament 
as my brother. I am poor, and need money. Hence I come 


MADAME LETITIA. 


443 


to you, to my mother, and pray you, let me have some of your 
savings. I know you have money; I need it, and you would 
place me under the greatest obligations if you would lend me 
a large sum.” 

Madame Letitia gravely shook her head. “ You are mis- 
taken, sire,” she said; “ I have only as much as I need.” 

The emperor’s forehead darkened more and more. “ Ma- 
dame,” he cried, in a tone of irritation, “I repeat to you, it 
is a great favor which I ask of you !” 

“ And I repeat that I have no money to spare ; I had some, 
hut sent it recently to Lucien, who needs it.” 

“ Well, then, let us say no more about it,” replied the em- 
peror, rising, and, as if to overcome his vexation, turning to- 
ward the paintings, and closely inspecting one after another. 
“You have very fine paintings, madame,” he said, after a 
pause. 

“ Yes, the work of great masters,” replied madame, com- 
posedly. “ You reproach me with being very parsimonious, 
sire; I have, however, paid very large sums to artists.” 

“ I am especially delighted with this landscape,” said the 
emperor, standing in front of the Swiss landscape, on which 
he had repeatedly cast furtive glances. 

“ Well, it is very fine and costly,” said madame. 

The emperor was silent, and looked up again attentively to 
the painting. He then turned toward his mother, who stood 
near him. “ Mother,” he exclaimed, “ I asked money of you, 
and you refused it. Will you refuse my request, too, if I ask 
you to present me with this fine landscape?” 

“ On the contrary,” said madame, “ I am glad to be able to 
fulfil your majesty’s wish. I shall have the painting conveyed 
to the Tuileries this very day.” 

“No,” exclaimed the emperor, smiling, “it will be better 
to take it at once with me in my carriage. You are so eco- 
nomical, mother, you might repent of having given me so 
costly a present, and might want to keep it.” 

“Sire,” said madame, solemnly, “the emperor’s mother 
pledges you her word that you shall receive the painting this 
very day.” 

“Madame,” replied her proud son, no less solemnly, “the 
emperor’s mother also pledged me her word that she has no 
money to lend me, and yet I venture to believe that she has 
laid by a great deal. Pardon me, therefore, if I persist in 
taking the painting with me. — Delia, Delia!” The door of 


444 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


the corridor opened, and old Cordelia looked in. “Bun, Cor- 
delia, and tell my two valets de cliambre, Constant and 
Boustan, to come hither at once.” 

Cordelia disappeared, and Napoleon now turned his head 
slowly toward his mother. Madame Letitia became pale; 
large drops stood on her forehead ; her eyes were flashing with 
angry excitement, and her lips were quivering. But over- 
coming her agitation she forced herself to smile, and offered 
her hand to the emperor. “ Come, my son, let us go into my 
cabinet and take coffee. It is unnecessary for us to be present 
with the servants. Come, sire.” 

The emperor did not take her hand, but, slightly bowing, 
drew back. “ Permit me to stay, madame, till my servants 
have taken the painting from the wall.” 

Madame could not suppress a sigh, and clutched a chair, as 
if she needed a support. 

The door opened, and the two imperial valets de chambre, 
Constant and Boustan, entered. “Come here,” cried the 
emperor, “take this down and carry it into my carriage.” 
The valets hastened to take the painting carefully from the 
wall. The emperor’s glance passed over the spot which it had 
covered. He saw that part of the silk hangings looked some- 
what fresher and darker than the rest. “ One would think 
the wall here were wet, and had moistened the hangings,” he 
said, laying his hand on the dark spot. “No,” he then ex- 
claimed, “ the wall is hollow here! Let us see wliat it means.” 

Madame uttered a cry, and, sinking into a chair, closed 
her eyes. 

The emperor now hastily tore off the dark piece covering the 
wall, and behind it was a deep square hole, in which stood a 
rather large-sized iron box. “Ah! do you see, madame,” 
cried the emperor, smiling -gayly, “ I discover here a secret 
which you yourself were ignorant of. It is evidently a box 
which the former proprietors of this palace concealed here 
during the revolution from the rapacious hands of the 
Jacobins.” 

Madame made no reply; her eyes were still closed, and she 
sat pale and tnotionless. 

“The box is heavy!” added the emperor, trying to lift it 
up. “ Constant, fetch the footmen to assist you in carrying it 
into my carriage. — I will take it with me, madame,” he said, 
turning toward his mother, “I will personally examine its 
contents.” At this moment Constant returned with four 


MADAME LETITIA. 


445 


footmen, and the six men succeeded at length in lifting the 
iron box. “Mow carry it immediately into my carriage ” 
commanded the emperor. 

Panting under their heavy load, the men left the room. 
Ihe emperor looked after them until the door closed. He 
then turned again toward his mother, who sat motionless and 
with her eyes closed. “Farewell, mother,” he said; “I am 
anxious to examine the contents of the box which I was lucky 
enough to find. But I must not dare now to deprive you of 
your beautiful painting. This hole in the wall must be 
covered, and your imperial highness might not at once have 
anotner picture worthy of replacing this landscape. I thank 
you, therefore, for your present, and take the will for the 
deed. Farewell, madame!” He bowed and walked slowly 
toward the door.* 

Madame Letitia said nothing, and made no movement to 
return the emperor’s salutation. As he departed, she groaned 
and wept. “Five millions!” she murmured, after a pause — 
“ the savings of long years has my son taken from me. Five 
millions!— the dower that I had laid by for Lucien’s daugh- 
ters — that I had Economized for the time when these days of 
prosperity will end.” She buried her face in her hands and 
sobbed aloud. At length her grief seemed somewhat calmed, 
and she raised her head again. “ Well,” she said, aloud, “ I 
formerly supported my family of nine children on an income 
of less than a hundred louis d’ors a year; if need be, I can do 
so again, and I hope I shall have at least so much left that 
Lucien and his daughters will not starve. I must be even 
more parsimonious.”! 

Two days afterward, on the 25th of January, the emperor 
left Paris for his army, and entered upon the last struggle. 
He was fully aware of the dangers threatening him. Hence, 
prior to leaving Paris, he put his house in order. The re- 
gency by letters-patent was conferred on the Empress .Maria 
Louisa, but with her was conjoined his brother Joseph, under 
the title of lieutenant-general of the empire; and Cambaceres, 
the arch -chancellor, was placed at the head of the council of 
state. The emperor then received the officers of the National 

*Le Normand. “M6moires,” vol. ii., p. 448. 

t Lucien, the ablest and noblest of Napoleon’s brothers, lived in constant dissen- 
sion with him, for he would not submit to his will. He declined the throne of Naples 
because the emperor imposed the condition that he should govern in precise accord- 
ance with the orders given him. He married a distinguished and beautiful Roman 
lady, and when Napoleon afterward offered him the throne of Tuscany on condition 
that he should get a divorce from his wife, Lucien refused, and preferred to live in 
obscurity outside of France, and to dispense with the splendor surrounding his family. 


446 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Guard of Paris in the apartments of the Tuileries. The em- 
press preceded him on entering the apartments, carrying the 
King of Rome in her arms. Greeting the officers, the em- 
peror said : “ Gentlemen of the National Guard of Paris, I 
am glad to see you assembled here. I am about to set out for 
the army. I intrust to you what I hold dearest in the world 
— my wife and my son. Let there be no political divisions; 
let the respect for property, the maintenance of order, and, 
above all, the love of France, animate every heart. I do not 
disguise that, in the course of the military operations to en- 
sue, the enemy may approach in force to Paris; it will be an 
affair of only a few days : before they are passed I will be on 
the flanks and rear, and annihilate those who have dared to 
invade our country. Efforts will be made to cause you to 
waver in your allegiance and the fulfilment of your duty; but 
I firmly rely on your resisting such perfidious temptations. 
Farewell, and God bless us all !” * Then, taking his son in 
his arms, he went through the ranks of the officers, and, pre- 
senting him to them as their future sovereign, he exclaimed, 
in a voice tremulous with emotion : “ I intrust him to you ; I 
intrust him to the love of my loyal city of Paris!” 

The National Guard responded by protestations of fidelity 
and devotedness. Cries of enthusiasm rent the apartments; 
tears were shed, and a sense of the solemnity of the moment 
penetrated every mind. All shouted, “Long live the em- 
peror! Long live the empress!” Maria Louisa, pale with 
emotion, her face bathed in tears, leaned her head on the em- 
peror’s shoulder; and, holding his son in his left arm, he 
placed his right around the trembling form of his consort. 
At the sight of this touching group the enthusiasm of the 
National Guard knew no bounds. They wept, cheered, and 
swore they would die to a man rather than forsake the emperor 
— that they would allow Paris to be laid in ruins by the artil- 
lery of the enemy rather than surrender the empress and the 
King of Rome. 

But this enthusiasm of the National Guard met with no 
response beyond the Tuileries. Paris maintained an ominous 
silence, and, when the emperor rode through the city at night, 
the streets were deserted; no one had awaited him to pay 
homage on his departure. Paris was asleep — its sleep that of 
exhaustion — and the people were dreaming, perhaps, that ad- 
versity was hastening upon them. 

♦Constant, “M6moires,” vol. vi., p. 7. 


FALL OF PARIS. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

THE BATTLE OF LA ROTHIERE. 

The morning of the 1st of February dawned cold and 
gloomy ; heavy gusts, driving the snow across the plain, gave 
to the landscape a sad and dreary aspect. Silence reigned in 
the camps of the hostile armies. In that of Napoleon at 
Brienne, and farther down the valley at the village of La 
Rothiere, on this side of the Aube, the camp-fires of the night 
were flickering in the gray morning, and far away on the 
horizon were seen the dark outlines of the castle of Brienne. 
There Napoleon had passed the last night of January, and in 
the vicinity encamped his troops, scarcely thirty thousand 
strong, the remnant of that “ grand army ” which the emperor 
had so often led to victory. 

In the camp of the Silesian army, too, all was quiet. It 
encamped beyond the Aube, on the heights of Trannes and 
Eclance, in the vineyards and the forests of Beaulieu ; it was 
enjoying repose after a prolonged exposure and privation. 
But its commander-in-chief, Field-Marshal Blucher, seemed 
to have no need of rest. Scarcely had daylight dawned when 
he was already on horseback, and rode to the crest of the 
mountain, by the side of his faithful adviser and friend Gen- 
eral Gneisenau, and followed by his pipe-master. From the 
crest he was able to survey the whole valley of La Rothi&re 
and Brienne, lying at a distance of scarcely four miles. 

Blucher raised his right arm toward the city and heaved a 
deep sigh. “Gneisenau,” he said, “I am deeply mortified at 
the defeat which Bonaparte inflicted on us two days ago. I 
cannot get over it, and can imagine what a hue-and-cry the 
distinguished gentlemen at headquarters have raised, and how 
the triibsalsspriizen are croaking again: Blucher is a crazy 
hussar who always wants to drive his head through a wall, and 
yet cannot get through it, and only causes us all a vast deal 


448 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


of trouble. ’ I can imagine how the peace apostles are raising 
their voices again, crying that war ought to cease, and we 
should run home because we did not gain the battle of Brienne. 
It is indispensable, therefore, for us, Gneisenau, to strike a 
good blow and get even with Napoleon. Yonder the fellow 
stands, with his few thousand men, showing his teeth, as if he 
were still the lion that needed only to shake his mane to 
frighten us olf as flies. I will show him that I am no fly, but 
a man who is able at any time to cope with him and such as 
are with him. Gneisenau, we cannot help it; we must attack 
him this very day. We must silence the triibsalsspritzen , in 
order to accelerate our operations against Paris.” 

“ You are right, field-marshal,” said Gneisenau; “we must 
strike a decisive blow, and compel the gentlemen at head- 
quarters to discontinue their present system of procrastina- 
tion. We must show Napoleon that we have also passed 
through a military school, though not at Brienne.” 

“ It makes me feel angry, Gneisenau, that we were unable 
to show him that at the very city of Brienne. I had thought 
how well it would be for me to prove to him, at the place 
where he passed his examination and received his first com- 
mission, that I had also passed my examination and learned 
something. Well, it is no use crying about it now; we must 
try to get over it, and only think of the best manner in which 
we may be even with him. General Wrede must join us with 
his troops at noon to-day, when we shall be stronger than 
Bonaparte, Marment, and all his marshals together.” 

“See!” cried Gneisenou, whose eyes \rere directed to the 
camp of the enemy, “ the troops yonder have put themselves 
in motion ; I see it quite distinctly now that the view is clearer. 
But they are not advancing.” 

“No,” cried Blucher, “they are retreating; they intend to 
escape us; Bonaparte wishes to avoid a battle. But that will 
not do ; I must have my battle here ! How am I to get to 
Paris if I do not rout his forces? how am I to pull him down 
if the present state of affairs goes on as heretofore? A blow 
must be struck now ; we must take revenge for Brienne to- 
day!” 

“Wrede will be here with his troops at noon,” said Gneise- 
nau, thoughtfully; “let us, therefore, attack the enemy at 
twelve o’clock, and make all necessary dispositions for it. 
Above all, couriers should be sent to headquarters.” 

“Yes, Gneisenau, it is your province to attend to all that, 




THE BATTLE OF LA ROTHIERE. 449 

for you know well that you are the head and I am the arm. 
Consider all that is necessary; I know only that Bonaparte 
contemplates a retreat, and that I must compel him to accept 
battle. I have felt sad enough for the past three days; for, 
say yourself, Gneisenau, is it not sheer arrogance for Bona- 
parte to remain here so long quietly in front of us, as though 
he intended to give us time for uniting our forces, and 
thought we were after all, too cowardly to defeat him?” 

“ It is, perhaps, not arrogance, but disgust and weariness,” 
said Gneisenau, thoughtfully. “ The prince of battles seems 
to be exhausted, and to have lost confidence.” 

“A pretty fellow he is whom misfortunes at once exhaust,” 
grumbled Blueher, “ and who is courageous only as long as he 
is successful ! But I do not object to this disposition of Bona- 
parte, for every thing turns out now highly advantageous to 
us. The Austrians, the Wurtembergers, and the Bavarians, 
have come up, and will cooperate with us. Gneisenau, dis- 
patch your couriers to headquarters, that the monarchs may 
come. Take out your note-book; I will dictate to you what 
occurs to me, and what are my plans in regard to the battle. — 
Halloo, Christian! give me a pipe! I can think much better 
when smoking!” 

Christian galloped up, and with a grave air handed the 
short pipe to his master. “Pipe-master,” said Blueher, 
“ hold a good many pipes in readiness to-day, for there will 
be a fight, and you know that our gunners fire more steadily 
when my pipe is burning well. — Well, write now, Gneiseftiu: 
‘Precisely at twelve the troops will be put in motion, and de- 
scend from Trannes into the plain. In the centre, Sacken’s 
infantry will advance upon La Rothiere in two columns. The 
Austrians form the left, and will march on the town of Dion- 
ville. The hereditary Prince of Wurtemberg’s corps, compos- 
ing the right wing, will penetrate through the forest of 
Beaulieu, and take the village of La Gibrin. Olsuwiew’s 
infantry and Wassilchikow’s cavalry, Sacken’s reserves, 
will follow the two columns of the centre. Two divisions 
of Russian cuirassiers and Rajewski’s corps of grenadiers will 
remain in reserve on the heights of Trannes. The Bavarian 
corps, under Wrede, will be stationed on the extreme right 
wing.’* Well, that is enough; close your note-book,” said 
Blueher, blowing a large cloud of smoke from his mouth. 
“ Every thing else will come of itself after the fight has be- 

*Beitzke, vol. iii., p. 118 . 


450 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


gun. I have said what I had to say, and now commences 
your work, Gneisenau. Dispatch couriers quickly to the 
headquarters of the sovereigns, and may they arrive here in 
time, and not again, by their hesitation and timidity, spoil 
our game, coming too late from fear of coming too early ! Let 
me tell you that I am not afraid of Bonaparte, with his young 
guard and his army of conscripts. We are twice as strong, 
for we have eighty thousand men, and his forces, I believe, 
are not forty thousand. Besides, we have allies whom Bona- 
parte cannot have — the good God and His angel, Queen Louisa. 
He has sent us to put an end to the tyranny of the robber of 
crowns, and Queen Louisa is looking down and praying for us 
and Prussia’s honor. The enemy, however, whom I am afraid 
of is, in our own flesh and blood ; he is creeping around the 
headquarters of the monarchs, and singing peace-hymns, and 
raising a hue-and-cry about the greatness of Bonaparte, repre- 
senting him as Invincible, and ourselves as insignificant. In 
that way are all our arms paralyzed! Gneisenau, should they 
hesitate to act in an energetic manner, and fail to be on hand 
in time, it would be dreadful, and I believe my rage would 
kill me!” 

But Blucher’s apprehensions were not to be verified. All 
the corps on which he had counted in drawing up his plan of 
operations arrived at the stated hour, and precisely at noon 
appeared the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, and 
Priiice Schwartzenberg, with their numerous and brilliant 
suites. The monarchs surveyed the position of the two armies 
from the heights of Trannes, and had Blucher explain his 
plan to them in his brief and energetic manner. 

The Emperor Alexander then turned with a gentle smile 
toward Prince Schwartzenberg, commander-in-chief of the al- 
lied forces. “ And what do you think of this plan of the brave 
field -marshal?” 

“It is as well conceived as it is bold,” said Schwartzenberg, 
“ and I beg leave to intrust the command of the whole army 
to Field-Marshal Blucher. I renounce the privilege of direct- 
ing the operations of to-day, and leave every thing to the 
discretion of the field-marshal.” 

Blucher’s eyes sparkled with delight, and a glow suffused 
his cheeks. “Prince,” he exclaimed, offering his hand to 
Schwartzenberg, “ this is an honor for which I shall always be 
grateful to you. You have a generous heart, and know that 
I must take revenge for the disastrous affair of Brienne. I 


THE BATTLE OF LA ROTHIERE. 


451 


thank you, prince, for giving me an opportunity. Now I 
shall prove to their majesties that Bonaparte is not invincible, 
or, if I cannot prove it to them, I shall die! Hurrah! Let 
us begin!” He galloped with the impatience and ardor of a 
youth to the front of the troops, which put themselves rapidly 
in motion, and rushed like a torrent down the heights of 
Trannes. 

Soon the artillery commenced to boom, and transmitted 
Blucher’s battle-cry to Napoleon. The emperor, who had in- 
tended to retreat with his small army, in order to avoid a 
fight, now halted his troops, and formed them into line. As 
the allies were advancing with great impetuosity, a further 
retreat would have been equivalent to flight. Napoleon, 
therefore, accepted the battle, and his cannon soon responded. 
The engagement raged with murderous energy; the balls 
hissed in every direction ; the allies rushed forward in strong 
columns, but the French did not fall back before them. In 
the midst of the fearful carnage they stood like heroes, some- 
times repulsing the superior enemy with sublime valor; and 
when they gave way, they rallied and advanced to reconquer 
their positions. It was easy to see that it was Napoleon’s 
presence that inspired the French with irresistible courage. 
Hour after hour vast numbers were slain on both sides, and 
while the earth was trembling beneath the strife, the snow 
fell to such a depth as to shroud the dead from view. 

The contest was most furious in and around the village of La 
Rothiere. The French held it with the utmost obstinacy, 
and vainly did Sacken’s corps, which had b.een repeatedly re- 
pulsed, return to the charge; the French stood like a wall, 
and their cannon hurled death into the ranks of their ad- 
versaries. 

Blucher witnessed this doubtful struggle for some time with 
growing impatience; his loud “Forward!” encouraged the 
troops to charge, but their assaults were in vain. “ Gneise- 
nau,” he cried, “we must take the village, for La Rothiere is 
the key of the position. — Halloo, pipe-master!” Hennemann 
was by his master’s side. “ There,” said Blucher, taking the 
pipe from his mouth, and handing it to Christian, “ take this 
pipe, and stay, do you hear, on this spot! I shall soon be 
back, and you will see to it that I then get a lighted pipe. I 
have to say a word or two to the French.” 

“You may depend on it, field-marshal, I shall stay here,” 
said Christian, gravely ; “ you will find me and the pipe here. ” 


452 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“Very well; and now come, Gneisenau,” said Blucher, 
galloping to the head of the assaulting columns. Turning 
his face, full of warlike ardor, toward his soldiers, he shouted: 
“ You call me Marshal Forward ! Now I will show you what 
that means!” He turned his horse, and, brandishing his 
sword, rushed toward the village. The soldiers followed him 
with deafening cheers. 

Christian Hennemann looked composedly after them, and, 
putting the field-marshal’s pipe into his mouth, he murmured, 
“Well, I wonder if this will burn until the field-marshal re- 
turns, or if I shall have to light another !” At this moment 
a bullet whizzed through the air, carrying away the pipe from 
his mouth, and slightly wounding him. “Well,” he mur- 
mured, calmly, “ the first one is gone, and a piece of my head 
to boot ! Let us immediately dress the wound, and then light 
another pipe; for if he should return, and it is not ready for 
him — thunder and lightning!” After giving vent to his 
feelings, the pipe-master took out his little dressing-pouch, 
stanched the blood, applied a plaster to the wound, and 
wrapped a linen handkerchief around his head. “Now I am 
all right again, and will do my duty,” said Christian, closing 
the pouch, and opening the box, which was fastened to the 
pommel of his saddle. 

The fight was still raging. Night came, accompanied by 
a violent snow-storm, so as to render the muskets useless. As 
on the Katzbach, Biucher’s soldiers had to attack the enemy 
with their swords and bayonets. At length the allies were 
successful; the French were overpowered and driven back. 
The soldiers, headed by Blucher, rushed exultingly into the 
village of La Rothiere. “Forward!” shouted the field-mar- 
shal. “ Forward !” repeated the soldiers. They halted in the 
middle of the village. The French still occupied the houses 
on both sides of the principal street, and, converting every 
building into a fortress, they fought like lions against the im- 
petuous enemy. Blucher was in the midst of the flying bul- 
lets, but he did not notice them. The position had to be 
taken, and he knew that his presence inspired his soldiers to 
heroic efforts. The village was soon on fire, for the wind 
carried the flames from house to house, and the snowy plain re- 
flected the red glare far and wide. The French rushed from the 
houses in hurried flight, hotly pursued by Biucher’s soldiers. 
The battle was gained ! The enemy evacuated La Rothiere, 
and retreated in disorder to Brienne and across the Aube. 


THE BATTLE OF LA ROTLIIERE. 


453 


Blucher could now return to his headquarters and inform 
the monarchs of a victory. He rode back, thoughtfully; and 
Gneisenau, who was by his side, was also grave and silent. 

“Gneisenau,” he exclaimed, “I believe we have done very 
well to-day !” 

“ Your excellency must not say we, but I have done very 
well to-day,” said Gneisenau, smiling. “You alone conceived 
the plan of battle, and directed it; — for La Rothiere was the 
key of the whole position, and it was Marshal Forward who 
took it. This time your deeds must give the name to the 
battle, and it must be called ‘the battle of La Rothiere.’ ” 

“ Well, I do not care,” said Blucher. “ We have gained to- 
day, then, the battle of La Rothiere, and, what is still better, 
we have shown the French in their own country that Napo- 
leon’s invincibility is a myth, and that he can be beaten as 
well as any other general. — But what is that? See there, 
Gneisenau! what sentinel is posted on the road yonder?” 

In fact, a dark form on horseback halted by the roadside; 
the flames of the burning village rose higher, and shed a light 
on the stranger. It was a man dressed in the uniform of a 
hussar; a white, blood-stained handkerchief was wrapped 
around his head and half his face; his right arm was also 
bandaged, and in his mouth was a clay pipe. 

“It is the pipe-master!” cried Blucher, quickly galloping 
up. 

“Yes, it is I — who should it be?” grumbled Christian. 

“But, Christian,” exclaimed Blucher, “how in Heaven’s 
name do you look! And what are you doing here?” 

“ I am waiting for Field-Marshal Blucher. Did you not 
tell me that I was to wait for you here, and keep the pipe in 
order? Well, I did wait for you, field-marshal. And you 
ask, too, how I look? Just like one around whom the blue 
beans have been whizzing for hours past, and whose head and 
arm have been scratched a gre^t deal. You kept me waiting 
a long time, field-marshal — more than four hours! The 
French have shot pipe after pipe from my mouth, and this is 
the last I have. If you had not come soon, it would have been 
smashed, too.” 

“No,” said Blucher, smiling, “the French will not break 
another pipe of mine to-day, Christian, for they have taken 
to their heels. It is true, however, I have kept you waiting 
a long time. But that was the fault of the French; they 
resisted with the greatest obstinacy. For the rest, Christian, 


454 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


you had a pipe of tobacco at least during the whole time that 
you were waiting, and did not fare so badly after all; as for 
your wounds, I shall have them well attended to, my boy. You 
have behaved as a brave man, and stood fire as a genuine sol- 
dier ought to do. When we get home I will relate it to your 
old father, and he will rejoice over it. Now, give me the 
pipe; it will be the last that you will fill for me for some time 
to come, for you are disabled; your right arm is shattered, 
and you must be cured.” 

“ Well,” exclaimed Christian, “with my left hand lean 
fill your pipes. I am and must be Field-Marshal Blu cher’s 
pipe-master, and, if they do not shoot off my head, I will 
not give up my position!” 

On the following day Blucher received at the castle of 
Brienne the congratulations and thanks of the allied monarchs. 
The Emperor Alexander embraced him, and his eyes were 
filled with tears of joyful emotion. “Field-marshal,” he 
said, “ you have crowned all your former efforts by this glo- 
rious triumph. I do not know how we are to reward you for 
this. But I know we must admire and love you.” 

King Frederick William shook hands with Blucher, and a 
smile illuminated his features. “Blucher,” he said, mildly, 
“you have kept your word; you have fulfilled all that you 
promised us at Frankfort, when I informed you of your 
appointment to the command-in-chief. To-day you have 
blotted out the disgrace of Jena. Have you any wish which 
I am able to fulfil? Pray let me know it, for I should like to 
prove to you my gratitude and love.” 

“ I have a wish, and before it is gratified, I shall neither 
sleep well by night nor be calm by day. Now your majesties 
are quite able to grant this wish of mine, and therefore I 
urgently pray both of you to do so.” 

“ Tell us what it is!” exclaimed the emperor; “ I am anxious 
to grant it as far as I am concerned, for an heroic head like 
yours must not lie uneasy at night, and a childlike heart like 
yours must be content. Speak, then!” 

“Ah, sire,” said the king, smiling, and fixing a searching 
look on Blu cher’s bold face, “sire, beware of promising, for 
then he will leave us no rest; he will not even let us sleep at 
night until he has driven us to Paris. — That is your wish, 
Blucher, is it not?” 

“It is!” exclaimed Blucher, ardently. “That is my wish; 
and, as your majesty has called upon me to tell you something 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


455 


that you could grant, and as his majesty the emperor tells me, 
too, that he would like to gratify me— I say, let us now set 
out by forced marches for Paris. Let us advance with all our 
armies on the capital, for then the war will soon he over. I 
implore your majesties, let us proceed quickly. Let us give 
Bonaparte no time for heading us o If; but let us outstrip him 
moving on Paris, and, if need be, take the city by storm. 
When Paris falls all France is ours, and the war is over!” 

“ Well, what says your majesty?” asked Alexander, turning 
toward the king. “ Shall we comply with the wish of our 
young madcap?” 

“ Sire, as far as I am concerned, I have pledged him my 
word,” said Frederick William; “hence, I must keep it.” 

“And I assent with the greatest pleasure, sire,” exclaimed 
Alexander; “ let us march on Paris, then ; but we should agree 
as to the best way of doing so.” 

“Well, we have invited our generals to hold a council of 
war, and T believe they are waiting for us now,” said the 
king. “Come, therefore, sire; and you, Blucher, pray ac- 
company us. One thing is settled : we shall march on Paris 
in accordance with your wish — only we have to select the 
routes which the various columns of the army are to take, for 
they are too large to move by the same road; they could not 
find the necessary supplies in the same section of country. 
We must divide them, and that is the question which we shall 
now discuss with our generals.” 

“I do not care about that,” replied Blucher, merrily; “if 
the chief point is settled, all the rest is indifferent to me; I 
shall obey the orders of my king, and be content with the 
route selected for me and my corps. The point is — we must 
profit by our victory and outstrip Bonaparte! We must take 
Paris!” 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 

THE DISEASED EYES. 

Upward of a month had elapsed since the victory of La 
Rothi^re, and Blucher’s ardent wish had. not yet been fulfilled ; 
the allies were not in Paris. The system of procrastination 
had again obtained the upper hand at the headquarters of the 
allies. Austria hesitated to use her power in a decisive man- 
ner against Napoleon, the emperor’s son-in-law; the crown 


456 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


prince of Sweden wished to spare France, and was still in 
hope that the congress, which had been in session at Chatillon 
since the 4th of February, would conclude a treaty of peace. 
Among the very attendants of the Emperor of Russia and the 
King of Prussia this peace party had its active supporters, 
who opposed an energetic policy, and wished the congress of 
Chatillon, and not the army, to put an end to the war. 

Bluclier once had dared openly to oppose these “ peace 
apostles,” and disregarded the instructions received from the 
allied monarchs to move farther back from Paris, and, instead 
of crossing the Seine, retreat with his army to Chaumont and 
Langres. This order filled the field-marshal with anger, and 
his generals and staff-officers shared it. Great as he was in 
all his actions, Blucher took the bold resolution to pay no at- 
tention to the retrograde movements of Schwartzenberg and 
the crown prince of Sweden, but to continue his march, even 
at the risk of appearing in front of Paris without support. 

But it was not as a rebel that he had wished to take so dar- 
ing a step; on the contrary, before moving, he wrote to King 
Frederick William, and implored him to fulfil his wish, and 
allow him to advance. He did not wait, however, for the 
king’s answer, but, though he knew that the commander-in- 
chief, Prince Schwartzenberg, had already commenced retreat- 
ing, continued to march with his Silesian army alone upon 
the capital of France. 

The monarchs themselves were of Blucher ’s opinion, and 
gave him full power, having his army reenforced by the corps 
of Bulow and Winzingerode. With his forces thus increased 
to twice their original strength, he was able to confront Napo- 
leon, and attack Paris even without Schwartzenberg’s assist- 
ance. But the fortune of war is fickle, and he did not con- 
tinue his march without experiencing this. On the 7th of 
March he fought a bloody battle with Napoleon and his mar- 
shals between Soissons and Craonne, and, to his profound re- 
gret, was defeated, and forced to retreat. 

He took revenge at Laon, where he and his brave Silesian 
army gained a victory on the 9th of March. This was fol- 
lowed by still another. He at length silenced the “ trilbsals- 
spritzen ” and “ peace apostles,” who had up to this time raised 
their influential voices at headquarters. All felt that a re- 
treat, after this great victory, was entirely out of the question, 
and even Schwartzenberg and Bernadotte joined in Blucher’s 
“Forward!” and marched their armies to Paris. 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


457 


But the brave field-marshal himself wag At this time unable 
to join in the movement. Since the battle of Laon he had 
been affected with a violent inflammation of the eyes, aggra- 
vated by a fever. Confined to his dark room, he was obliged 
to remain ten days at Laon, suffering not only physical but 
mental pain. For how could he redeem his pledge — how 
achieve a final victory over Napoleon — if, half -blind and 
doomed to the captivity of a sick-room, he could not march 
with his troops, and lead them in person into battle? Regard- 
less of the warnings of his physicians, he tried to brave his 
sufferings, and, putting himself at the head of his troops, 
again advanced with them. Finally, on the 24th of March, 
by way of Rheims, he arrived at Chalons. But the inflamma- 
tion of his eyes had grown worse on the road, and gave him 
intolerable pain; the fever sent his blood like fire through 
his veins, and what neither age, nor defeat, nor disappointed 
hope, had been able to accomplish, was accomplished by sick- 
ness. He grew faint-hearted — his disease destroyed his en- 
thusiasm. Longing for tranquillity, he remembered how 
beautiful and peaceful his dear Kunzendorf was, how kind 
and mild the sweet face of his Amelia, and with what soft 
hands she would wash his inflamed eyes, and apply the rem- 
edies. 

During the last march from Rheims to Chalons he con- 
stantly thought of this. At length he made up his mind, and 
no sooner had he arrived at Chalons than he sent for Henne- 
mann, and locked himself in his room with him. 

“Christian,” said Blucher, in a subdued voice, “I am go- 
ing to see whether you are really a faithful fellow, and 
whether I may confide something to you.” 

“Very well, field-marshal, put me to the test. ’ 

“Not so loud!” cried Blucher, anxiously. “Let us first 
discover whether any one can hear us here.” He opened the 
door, and looked into the antechamber. No one was there. 
He then examined the dark alcove adjoining the sitting-room, 
which was empty, too. “ We are alone; no one can overhear 
us,” said Blucher, returning from his reconnoissance to the 
sitting-room. “ Now, pipe-master, listen to me. First, 
however, look at my eyes, do you hear; look closely at them. 
Well, how do they look?” 

“Very sore,” said Christian, mournfully. 

“And they have not grown better, though Voelzke, the 
surgeon -general, has been doctoring them every day; and, by 
80 


458 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


his salves, mixtures, leeches, and blisters, causing me almost 
as much pain as the eyes themselves. Nay, they grow rather 
worse from day to day, and if I remain here longer, and allow 
the physicians to torment me, I shall finally lose my eyesight 
altogether, and when I am blind, I shall be of no account — 
unable to use my sword and fight Bonaparte. I am afraid 
the good God will not permit me to pull down Bonaparte from 
his throne. He knows I should then be too happy, and there- 
fore says, ‘Gotthold Leberecht Blucher, I have permitted thee 
to bring Bonaparte to the brink of ruin ; now thine armies are 
close to Paris, and will, without thee, get into the city. Go, 
therefore, old boy, and have thine eyes cured!’ Well, I will 
comply with God’s will, and go to some place and have my- 
self healed, where they know better how to do it than our 
doctors here. I have been told that there are excellent ocu- 
lists at Brussels, and Brussels is not very far from here. I 
will, therefore, go there.” 

“The field-marshal intends to retreat, then?” said Chris- 
tian, laconically. 

“Retreat!” cried Blucher, angrily. “Who takes the lib- 
erty of saying that Field-Marshal Blucher intends to re- 
treat?” 

“I take that liberty,” said Christian. “The field-marshal 
intends to retreat from the inflammation of his eyes.” 

“Why, yes; that is an enemy from which it is no disgrace 
to retreat.” 

“A retreat is always a retreat,” said Christian, with a 
shrug, “ and if you carry out your intention you will no longer 
be called Marshal Forward!” 

“I do not care to be called so now!” exclaimed Blucher. 
“ The inflammation of my eyes has made me desperate ; I shall 
lose my sight if I stay here, and then they will lead me by 
the nose like a blind bear. There is no use in talking any 
more about it ; I will and must go. If you do not wish to ac- 
company me say so, and you may stay here.” 

“If you go, then I will too,” said Christian, with his usual 
calmness, “ for where the field-marshal is the pipe-master must 
be ; that is a matter of course. I have pledged my word to 
my father, to Madame von Blucher, and to the good God, 
that I would never leave my general, and it makes no differ- 
ence if he is field-marshal now. If they do not shoot me, I 
shall stay with my field-marshal.” 

“Christian,” said Blucher, offering him his hand, “you are 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


459 


a dear boy ; your heart is in the right place, and it is always 
the best thing in a man. When we get back to Kunzendorf 
you shall lead a very pleasant life, for I can never forget 
what a faithful and excellent young fellow you have been. 
Then you will go with me?” 

“ Yes, to the end of the world, general!” 

“ Well, we shall not go so far as that — only to Brussels, 
where there are good oculists; and when they have cured me, 
I will see whether they still need me here, and whether every 
thing has then been done to my liking.” 

“ Oh, I believe it will be then as it is now,” said Christian, 
in a contemptuous tone. “When Marshal Forward is no 
longer here, things will go backward, that is sure. But we 
need not care, for we shall go forward to Brussels.” 

“Yes, to Brussels,” said Blucher; “we set out to-night; 
but no one must know it; I will leave as quietly as possible. 
I cannot stand bidding them all farewell, and listening to 
their fine speeches ; I will leave, therefore, so that no one shall 
discover it before I am gone.” 

“A secret flight!” said Christian, laconically. 

“Secret flight? how stupid!” grumbled Blucher. “It is 
strange what ridiculous words the boy uses! How a flight? 
I believe I am no prisoner.” 

“ No, but you are field-marshal.” 

Blucher’s red eyes cast an angry glance on the bold pipe- 
master. “You talk as you understand it,” he cried; “when 
I am a poor blind fellow, swallowing powders and using salves 
all day I am no longer a field-marshal and had better resign, 
not waiting to be deposed by a few polite phrases. That is 
the reason why I am going to leave.” 

“And I leave, too,” said Christian; “but as the field-mar- 
shal does not wish me to say any thing about it, of course I 
shall not. But how are we to get away, if no one is to be in- 
formed?” 

“ Well, listen ! I will tell you. I have already devised the 
whole plan of operations, and — but, hark ! something seems 
moving in the alcove, as if a door opened.” 

“There is no door in the alcove,” said Christian; “it was, 
perhaps, a mouse, and it tells no tales. Inform me, field- 
marshal, what I have to do.” 

“ Well, listen, Christian !” And the field-marshal began to 
explain to him, in his vivacious manner, the whole plan of 
his departure. Christian comprehended it, and entered very 


460 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


seriously into the duties of quartermaster-general to his field- 
marshal. 

“ Do you remember it all now?” asked Blucher, at the con- 
clusion of their conference. “ Do you know all that you have 
to do?” 

“1 know all,” said Christian. “ In the first place, I am to 
go to General Gneisenau and inform him that the field-mar- 
shal is sick and confined to his bed to-day, and refuses to see 
any one. General Gneisenau will mention it, of course, to 
Surgeon-General Dr. Voelzke, who will come to see the field- 
marshal. I am to tell him that he is in so much pain from 
his inflamed eyes that he had ordered me to admit no one — 
that he is trying to sleep. Then I am to come back to you, 
and your excellency will give me the farewell letters to Gen- 
eral Gneisenau, whereupon I am to pack up your things and 
lock the bags. When it grows dark, I am to carry them 
secretly into our carriage. Then it will suddenly occur to 
your excellency to take an airing, the sun having set, and 
therefore unable to hurt your eyes. I am to accompany you, 
and we shall not come back.” 

“No, we shall not come back,” said Blucher, thought- 
fully. “Well, every thing is settled now; run, and attend to 
what I told you. We shall set out at seven o’clock to-night.” 

Christian hastened away. Blucher looked after him with a 
mournful glance and a deep sigh. “The die is cast,” he 
murmured to himself; “now I am indeed a poor old invalid, 
no longer of any use. God has refused to fulfil my dearest 
wish ; He would not let me hurl Bonaparte from his stolen 
throne. I must face about at the gates of Paris, and creep 
back into obscurity. Well, let God’s will be done! I have 
labored as long as there was daylight; now comes the night, 
when I can work no more. Ah, my poor sore eyes! I — but 
there is, after all, some one in the alcove,” cried Blucher, 
springing to his feet. Again he heard a noise as of footsteps, 
and an opening door. He bounded into the alcove, but all 
was still ; no one was there, and no door to be seen. “ I was 
mistaken,” he said. “ A bad conscience is a very queer thing. 
Because I am about to do something secret, I am thinking 
that eavesdroppers are watching me and trying to forestall 
me.” 

It was seven in the evening; the sun had set. Field-Mar- 
shal Blucher, who was very sick all day, now intended to take 
an airing. The pipe-master had, therefore, ordered the 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


461 


coachman; and the field-marshal’s carriage, drawn by four 
black horses, had just come to the door. Blucher was still in 
his room, but all his preparations were completed. On the 
table lay two letters — one addressed to the king, the other to 
General Gneisenau ; the carpet-bags had already been conveyed 
into the carriage, together with his pipe-box. The invalid 
had only to wrap himself in his military cloak, leave the room, 
and enter the carriage; but he still hesitated. An anxiety, 
such as he had never known before, had crept over him; and, 
what had ne.ver before happened to him, his heart beat with 
fear. “That was just wanting to me,” he murmured. “I 
have become a white-livered coward, whose legs are trembling, 
and whose heart is throbbing! What am I afraid of, then? 
Is that wrong which I am about to do? My heart has never 
acted thus even in the storm of battle. What does it mean? 
Bah ! it is folly ; no attention should be paid to it. I hope, 
however, that no one will meet me when I go down-stairs, 
or at the carriage when I enter it. Let me see if there is 
any one in the street/' He quickly stepped to the window 
and looked out ; there was no one in the street, or near his 
carriage. “I will go now,” said Blucher, turning again 
toward the room. “ I — ” He paused, and a blush suffused 
his cheeks. There, in the middle of the room, stood General 
Gneisenau, and gazed at him with a strange, mournful air. 
“ Gneisenau, is it you?” asked Blucher, in a faltering voice. 
“ How did you get in?” 

“ Simply by the door, your excellency,” said Gneisenau, 
smiling. “ Your pipe-master kept the door closed all day, 
and turned me away by informing me the field-marshal had 
ordered him to admit no one, because he wished to sleep ; but 
my desire to see you brought me back again and again, and 
so I have come, fortunately at the opportune hour, when the 
Cerberus is no longer at the door, but is standing below at the 
carriage, waiting for the field-marshal, who intends to take an 
airing.” 

“Yes, I do,” said Blucher, casting an anxious glance on 
the two letters lying on the table. “ I do intend to take an 
airing; good-by, then, Gneisenau!” He turned toward the 
door, but Gneisenau kept him back. “ Your excellency must 
not ride out to-night,” he said; “ I implore you not to do so. 
There is a cold wind, and you must not expose your inflamed 
eyes to it. You are not careful enough of your health; Sur- 
geon-General Voelzke complains of the little attention you pay 


462 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


to his prescriptions, and that your eyes, instead of getting 
better, are growing worse and worse.” 

“Yes, that is true,” grumbled Blucher, “they are burning 
like fire. I will go out, therefore; the night-wind will cool 
them.” 

He turned again toward the door, but at this moment it 
was thrust open, and Surgeon-General Yoelzke entered the 
room. “ I am told your excellency intends to take an airing,*' 
said the physician, almost indignantly. “ But I declare that 
I cannot permit it. You have intrusted yourself to my treat- 
ment; I am responsible to God, to the king, to the whole 
world — nay, to history, if I allow you to rush so recklessly to 
destruction; I will not suffer it; your excellency must not 
ride out!” 

“ I should like to see who is to prevent me !” cried Blucher, 
striding toward the door. 

“The physician will prevent you,” said Voelzke, standing 
in the doorway with his large, tall form. “ The physician 
has the right of giving orders to kings and emperors, and 
Marshal Forward has to submit to his commands, too.” 

“ I do not think of it,” said Blucher; “ I do not permit any 
one to give me orders.” 

“Not even your disease — your inflamed eyes?” asked 
Voelzke, solemnly. “ Did you not obey when your fever and 
inflamed eyes commanded you to remain idle at Laon for ten 
days, although you were in a towering passion, and were bent 
on advancing with the army? Well, your excellency, I tell 
you, if you do not now obey me. and consent to desist from 
taking an airing — if you are determined to ride out in the 
cold night-air, one more powerful than I am will compel you 
to obey; and that one is your disease. You may ride out to- 
day, but to-morrow it will command you to keep your bed ; 
the inflammation of your eyes will make you a prisoner, and 
you will he unable to flee from it, notwithstanding your im- 
perious will, or your four-horsed carriage.” 

“Well, well,” said Blucher, “you put on such solemn airs 
as almost to frighten me. It is true, my disease is very pow- 
erful, and this soreness of my eyes has already rendered me 
so desperate that — ” 

“That your excellency has written letters,” interposed 
Gneisenau, pointing to the table. “But, what do T see? 
There is one addressed to me!” 

“No, give it to me,” cried Blucher, embarrassed; “now 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


463 


that you are here, I can tell you every thing verbally, and it 
is unnecessary for you to read what I have written.” 

He was about to seize the letter, but Gneisenau drew back 
a step, and, bowing deeply, said, “ Your excellency has done 
me the honor of writing to me. Permit’ me, therefore, to 
read.” He stepped quickly into the window-niche, and 
opened the letter. 

“Well, stand back there, doctor,” cried Blucher, “let me 
out! Do not make me angry; leave the door!” 

I do not care if you are angry, your excellency,” said the 
surgeon-general, folding his arms, “ but in order to get me 
out of this doorway you will have to kill me.” 

At this moment, Gneisenau uttered a cry of terror, and 
hastened toward Blucher. “What! your excellency,” he 
exclaimed, “you intend to leave us? To set out secretly?” 

“What do you say?” thundered the physician. “What 
did my patient intend to do?” 

“ He intends to forsake us — his army that worships him, 
his friends who idolize him, his king who hopes in him — he 
intends to leave us all!” said Gneisenau, mournfully. “It is 
written here, doctor; I may mention it to you, for you are 
one of our most devoted friends.” 

“ And he intends also to leave his physician ; he will go, 
and get blind!” exclaimed Yoelzke, reproachfully. 

“ Well, it is precisely because I do not wish to get blind 
that I must move from here,” said Blucher, who had now re- 
covered his firmness, and felt relieved, since his secret had 
been disclosed. “ What am I, a poor blind old man, to do 
longer in the field? I am fit for nothing. In the end I shall 
perhaps fare like old Kutusoff, whom they dragged along with 
the army. Thus would they drag me when I am no longer 
myself.” * 

“But,” said the physician, “your excellency is not blind; 
you will be well in two weeks if you only resolve to comply 
with my prescriptions, use the remedies I give you, and punc- 
tually obey my instructions. You intend to go to Brussels, 
where you will certainly find celebrated physicians; but they 
do not know you ; they will only doctor your eyes, not suspect- 
ing that the seat of your disease is in your nerves, and that 
your eyes are unhealthy because your mind is suffering. And 
it will suffer still more when you have deserted your army, your 
friends — nay, I may say, your duty. The strange surround- 

*Blucher’s words.— Vide Varnhagen, “Prince Blucher of Wahlstatt,” p. 373. 


464 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


ings, the want of care, the unknown physicians, your anxiety 
at being ignorant of what the army is doing — all this will 
torture your soul, and aggravate the disease of your eyes.” 

“It is true, I shall be very lonely in a foreign city," said 
Blucher, thoughtfully; “but it is, after all, better than to 
stay here as a useless, blind old man. I can never again com- 
mand an army or direct a battle. ” 

“ If you cannot command an army in person, you can by 
your words,” exclaimed Gneisenau; “ and if you cannot direct 
the battle with your arms, you can do so with your spirit; for 
that fires our hearts as long as you are with us, and bids de- 
fiance to the adversaries and hesitating diplomatists. If your 
person leaves us, your spirit does also, and with Marshal For- 
ward we lose all prospect of marching forward. Consider this, 
your excellency ; consider that you endanger not only the wel- 
fare of your army, but the success of the war; for when you 
are not present, all will go wrong.” 

“Well, you will be here, Gneisenau,” said Blucher; “you 
are half myself; you know my thoughts just as well as I do — ■ 
nay, you often know them much better! You will, therefore, 
carry on all just as though I were still here.” 

“But shall I have the power to do so?” asked Gneisenau. 
“ Your excellency did not take into the account that when 
you leave the army, and give up your position as commander- 
in-chief, another general must be appointed in your stead. 
Who will receive this nomination? The senior general is 
Langeron, and do you consider him qualified to replace you?” 

“Well, that would be a pretty thing, if lie should become 
commander-in-chief!” cried Blucher. “The confusion and 
wrangling that would ensue would baffle description; for 
York and Bulow would be even more disobedient to him than 
they are to me.” 

“ But he would have to take command of the army until 
orders from headquarters arrived appointing another general- 
in-chief. We might have to wait a long time; for we are dis- 
tant *from the allied monarchs now, and they, moreover, 
will not Fasten to make that appointment. Until this is 
done, Langeron will command the army, and thereby I, the 
quartermaster-general, as well as Colonels Muffling and Grol- 
man, will be completely paralyzed in the discharge of our 
duties, or even lose our positions, which your excellency has 
always said we filled to your satisfaction, and in a manner con- 
ducive to the welfare of the army. If you go now, you there- 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


465 


by deprive three men of their places, although they feel strong 
enough yet to serve their country.” 

“ It is true, I have not thought of that,” said Blucher, em- 
barrassed. “ It did not occur to me that I should have a suc- 
cessor here, and that he might be so stupid as to be unable to 
appreciate my Gneisenau, and the brave Colonels Muffling and 
Grolman. No, no, that will not do; Langeron must not be- 
come commander-in-chief.” 

“ If you leave us, he will surely have that position, and our 
brave Silesian army will then be headed by a Russian. No, 
field-marshal, you must not go. You have no right to quit 
the army so arbitrarily, and without the king’s permission!” 

“ Well, I should like to see who would prevent me!” cried 
Blucher, defiantly. 

“ Your noble soul, your devotion to duty, and your love of 
country, will prevent you,” said Gneisenau. “You will re- 
fuse to abandon your work before it is completed. You will 
not incur the disgrace of confessing to all the world that you 
are unable to fulfil your word — not to rest before having over- 
thrown Napoleon, and made your entrance into Paris. Nor 
will you tarnish your glory on account of your eyes. You 
will not become a faithless father and friend to your sol- 
diers, whom you have so often greeted as your children, and 
who have always confided in you; nor will you break our 
courage and paralyze our souls by deserting us in this 
manner.” 

“It is true, I did not think sufficiently on this matter,” 
murmured Blucher to himself — “Voelzke,” he then cried 
aloud, “you pledge me your word of honor that you can cure 
me?” 

“ I swear it to your excellency by all that is sacred that, if 
you take care of yourself, and comply with my prescriptions, 
you will be cared in the course of two weeks.” 

“ Well,” said Blucher, after a short reflection, “ in that case 
I will yield, and stay.” 

“Heaven be praised, your excellency!” cried Gneisenau, 
tenderly embracing Blucher, “you are still my noble field- 
marshal, who will not desert his army, his fatherland, and his 
friends, for the sake of his individual comfort.” 

“Yes, I will stay,” said Blucher; “but as I have to obey 
the grim doctor there, and submit to his treatment thoroughly, 
as a matter of course I cannot work and make the necessary 
dispositions, but leave this to my head — to Gneisenau alone. 


466 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


I lend you my name for two w’eeks, and know that you will 
make good use of it. But if at the end of that time, doctor, 
I am not yet well, then, beware! May the Lord have mercy 
on your soul! for you will certainly get yourself into trouble.” 

“ Your excellency,” cried a loud voice outside, at this mo- 
ment — “ your excellency, are you not coming at all?” The 
door of the anteroom was violently thrust open, and the pipe- 
master appeared on the threshold. “ It is past eight o’clock,” 
he exclaimed, “and — ” He paused on perceiving the two 
gentlemen, and was about to retire very quickly. 

“ Come here, pipe-master,” exclaimed Blucher, “come here 
and look at me. Now tell me, pipe-master, have you been a 
chatterbox, after all, and told these two gentlemen what was 
the object of our airing ? v 

“ No, your excellency ; I have not uttered a word about it 
to any one,” replied the pipe-master, solemnly. “ I have been 
as dumb as a fish ; only in secret have I complained of my dis- 
tress; and, when that did not relieve me, and I still felt as 
though my heart would burst, I did what I have learned to do 
from the field-marshal: I went to my room, closed the door, 
and swore in the most fearful manner! That relieved my 
heart, and I proceeded to do all your excellency charged me 
with.” 

“First, therefore, you had to swear?” asked Blucher, 
drawing his long mustache through his fingers. “You were, 
then, greatly dissatisfied with my departure?” 

“ I did not conceal it from your excellency. I told you 
honestly that you would no longer be called Marshal For- 
ward if you retreated.” 

“Yes, retreat — that is just what be said,” exclaimed Blu- 
cher, laughing, and turning again toward the two gentlemen ; 
“ and when I told him I would leave the army and set out 
for Brussels he remarked that it was a secret flight.” 

“ The pipe-master is an honest man, who loves his master,” 
said Gneisenau, kindly smiling on him. “I have often and 
urgently begged him to-day to announce me to the field-mar- 
shal ; but he persisted in replying that he was not allowed to 
do so, and that he was ordered to admit no one.” 

“ And I would have given my little-finger, if I could have 
admitted General Gneisenau, and Dr. Voelzke, too; for I 
knew that, as soon as they would be with the field-marshal, 
his departure would not be very soon. As they are here now 
— though I do not know how they got here so unexpectedly — 


THE DISEASED EYES. 


467 


I suppose, field-marshal, we shall not set out, and I may send 
the horses back to the stable?” 

“Yes, you may,” said Blucher. “But wait, Christian, do 
not go yet; I have first to say a few words to these gentlemen, 
and you may listen. I will stay here, then, but on one con- 
dition. Will you fulfil it?” 

“Yes, your excellency,” cried Gneisenau and Yoelzke at 
the same time. 

“Well, tell me, then, how did you discover that I intended 
to start to-day, the pipe-master having said nothing about it 
to you? For I shall never believe that both of you could hap- 
pen to come to me at so unusual an hour, and without any 
reason. Beply — who told you that I was about to leave?” 

“You yourself, your excellency,” said Surgeon-General 
Yoelzke. 

“ What, I! What nonsense is this!” cried Blucher, laugh- 
ing. 

“ Yes, I heard it from yourself. Do you not remember 
that you heard a mouse rustle in your alcove?” 

“ To he sure, I did; I heard it twice.” 

“Well, then, the mouse was myself! I discovered a small 
secret side-door in your room, and desired to know whither 
it led. I therefore thrust it open, and was in your alcove ; 
just as I entered I heard your voice, saying, *It is settled, 
then, Christian, I shall set out for Brussels to-night, but no 
one must know a word about it!’ — Your excellency, I confess 
my crime : I stood and listened ; only when the pipe-master 
left your room did I softly creep away, too, and hasten to 
General Gneisenau to inform him of what I had heard. ” 

“Let us examine the alcove more carefully, pipe-master,” 
said Blucher, “ and see whether there is not somewhere else a 
secret door. Well, you may go now, Hennemann, and send 
the horses back to the stable.” 

“Heaven be praised!” exclaimed Christian, hastening out 
of the room. But scarcely had he closed the door, when he 
thrust it open again. “Field-marshal,” he said, “General 
von Pietrowitch, adjutant of the Emperor of Bussia, wishes 
to see your excellency immediately.” 

“Come in, general,” exclaimed Blucher; and offering his 
hand to the officer, he asked hastily, “ tell me, in the first 
place, general, whether you bring good or bad news?” 

“ I believe I bring what Marshal Forward would call good 
news,” said the general, smiling. “I come as a messenger 


468 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


from the emperor my master, and the king your master, and 
am commissioned to inform you of the determination taken 
at headquarters, and to obtain your consent and cooperation.” 

“ Is it a secret mission?” asked Gneisenau. 

“ On the contrary, the whole army will have to hear it to- 
night,” said the general. “My first news, then, is, that the 
congress of Chatillon was dissolved on the 19th of March.” 

“ Without leading to any results?” asked Blucher, breath- 
lessly. “ Without agreeing on a treaty of peace, or an armis- 
tice?” 

“ Nothing of the kind, your excellency. The congress has 
had an entirely opposite result — the speedy and energetic 
prosecution of the war. All the diplomatists, and the Em- 
peror Francis with them, after the dissolution of the congress, 
retired southward to Dijon.” 

“And Schwartzenberg?” cried Blucher. 

“ Prince Schwartzenberg remained, and held a council of 
war with the monarchs yesterday near Yitry. The result of 
this I am commissioned to communicate to you. The re- 
sumption of the offensive against Paris has been decided upon. 
Prince Schwartzenberg agrees with the sovereigns that Paris 
is the decisive point, and that it is all-important for us to cut 
off Napoleon from the capital, and take the city before he is 
able to reach it. Prince Schwartzenberg, therefore, sends 
word to your excellency that from this day all his standards 
are turned toward Paris, and that the army of Bohemia is 
marching in three columns. To-night they encamp at Fere 
Champenoise, where the headquarters of the allies are to be. 
Now, Prince Schwartzenberg invites you to participate with 
the Silesian army in this advance, starting at once, and 
advancing by the road of Montmirail and La Fert6-sous- 
Jouarre, and then form a connection with the army of 
Bohemia.” * 

“Yes, I shall certainly do so,” joyfully cried Blucher. 
“ Hurrah ! This is good news; now the word is not only with 
us, but everywhere, ‘Forward!’ Tell their majesties, and, 
above all, Prince Schwartzenberg, that they have made me 
very happy, and have performed a truly miraculous cure. 
I was sick and desponding; now, since you have come, I am 
again well and in good spirits. I feel no longer any pain, and 
my eyes will be all right again, now that they know that they 
are to see the city of Paris. I thought that it would come to 

*Beitzke, vol. iii., p. 431. 


ON TO PARIS! 


469 


this — that my brave brother Schwartzenberg would at length 
agree with me. We shall soon now put an end to the war. 
Bonaparte must he dethroned, and that speedily.” * 


CHAPTER X L I X . 

OK TO PARIS! 

Napoleok’s courage was not yet paralyzed; he had not 3’et 
given up the struggle. His indomitable heart was still wres- 
tling with adversity, and hoping that he would be able to over- 
come it. It is true, the disastrous battle of Bar-sur-Aube, 
where the army of Bohemia had gained a victory on the 20th 
of March, had greatly weighed him down; but a few days 
sufficed to restore his determination and energy. On the 26th, 
when he arrived with his army at St. Dizier, he had already 
devised new plans, and was again resolved to give battle to 
the allies. “We are still strong,” he said to Caulaincourt, 
who had just joined him at St. Dizier. “ We have upward of 
fifty thousand men here. I have issued orders to Marshals 
Marmont and Victor, as well as to all reenforcements that 
are on the road from Paris, to join our army. When they 
arrive, my forces will be eighty thousand, and the allies will 
not dare march on Paris, where they will find me. If I can 
now induce them to hesitate, and retard their operations a 
short time, by drawing reenforcements from the neighboring 
fortresses of the Meuse and the Moselle, I shall increase my 
army to upward of one hundred thousand, and it will then 
be easy for me to delay the progress of the enemy by con- 
stantly renewed attacks, and thus prolong the war.” 

“ But I am afraid, sire, you labor under a delusion as to one 
point: that it is still possible for you to delay the progress of 
the allies by any means whatever,” sighed Caulaincourt. “ I 
have examined every thing on my trip to your majesty’s head- 
quarters; I have conversed with every prisoner fallen into the 
hands of our troops, and I do not believe that the army of 
Bohemia is in the rear of your majesty, but that it has out- 
stripped you, and is already on the road to Paris.” 

Napoleon shrugged his shoulders and stepped to the door, 
which he opened, shouting, “ The mayor of St. Dizier!” The 
corpulent form of the mayor, who greeted the emperor with 

*Blucher’s own words.— Vide Yarnhagen von Ense, “Blucher,” p. 375. 


470 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


awkward obeisances, appeared immediately. “ Pray repeat 
your statements,” said the emperor, “The enemy’s troops 
were here yesterday, were they not?” 

“ They were, sire; all St. Dizier was occupied by them. It 
was General Winzingerode, with the soldiers of the allies. 
They stated that they were the vanguard of the principal 
army. General Winzingerode inspected all the large houses 
in the city, and reserved the best, adding that the Emperor 
of Russia and the King of Prussia would arrive here to- 
morrow, and take up their quarters at those houses; * but 
when the approach of your majesty was reported, the enemy 
quickly left the city.” 

“Very well; you may go,” said Napoleon, motioning to 
the mayor to leave the room. — “ Well, Caulaincourt, have you 
satisfied yourself now? Do you see now that the allies are not 
in our front, but still in our rear?” 

“Sire, suppose it were a delusion, after all?” sighed Cau- 
laincourt.. “ Suppose the allies had devised this stratagem, 
to mislead your majesty? — if none but Winzingerode’s corps 
follow us, while the principal army is hastening toward Paris 
by different routes? Oh, I implore your majesty, do not suffer 
your keen eyes to be blinded by false hopes! Look around 
and examine the evidences that confirm my views. All the 
prisoners report that the armies of Bohemia and Silesia have 
united, and are now marching on Paris. Besides, on our way 
from Bar-sur-Aube to this place, we have nowhere met with 
large columns of troops, and nothing whatever indicates the 
approach of the enemy in force.” 

“Well,” cried Napoleon, vehemently, “if we have not met 
with the enemy’s forces, it may be because they are in full 
retreat toward Lorraine, and that they are at last tired of 
carrying on a fruitless struggle with me.” f 

“ Ah, your majesty still thinks that you are opposed only 
by the timid and desponding enemies of former times!” said 
Caulaincourt, sighing; “but this is a mistake, which will 
prove disastrous.” 

“Ah!” cried Napoleon, vehemently, “you dare tell me 
that?” 

“Sire,” said Caulaincourt, calmly, “it is my duty to tell 
you the truth, and you are in duty bound to listen to it. X 

* This was a stratagem, resorted to by Winzingerode, in order to mislead Napo- 
leon as to the march of the allies. 

tFain, “Manuscrit del814,” p. 142. 

X Caulaincourt’s words,— “ M6moires d’un Homme d fitat,” vol. xii., p. 392. 


ON TO PARIS 


471 


Now, the truth is, that the allies are firmly determined to 
carry on the war to the last extremity, and that, at the best, 
they will leave to your majesty the frontiers of France as they 
were under the Bourbons. I venture, therefore, once more 
to implore your majesty to make peace; sire, peace at any 
cost! Perhaps it may be time yet. Send me once more to 
the allied monarchs! Tell them that you will now accept the 
ultimatum offered us at the congress of Chatillon, and that 
you will content yourself with the frontiers of France, as 
they were previous to the rise of the empire. Send me with 
this declaration to the Emperor Alexander of Russia, who, 
at the bottom of his heart, is still your friend !” 

“And whose devoted friend you are!” cried Napoleon. 
“Yes, you are Alexander’s servant, and not mine! You are 
a thorough Russian!” 

“ No, sire, I am a Frenchman!” said Caulaincourt, proudly, 
looking the emperor full in the face, “ and I believe I prove 
it by imploring your majesty to give peace to France and save 
your crown.” 

“Ah, save my crown!” exclaimed Napoleon. “Who dares, 
then, threaten my crown?” 

“ Sire, the allies and the Bourbons. The former have 
issued a proclamation, stating that they come to this country 
to make war on the Emperor Napoleon, and not on France; 
and the Bourbons, who are now in France, at the headquar- 
ters of the allies, have issued another proclamation, calling 
upon the nation to return to its duty and to the allegiance 
due to its legitimate king.” 

“I am neither afraid of the allies nor of the Bourbons,” 
said Napoleon. “ The French nation knows no Bourbons; it 
knows none but me, its emperor, and we two shall not break 
the faith we have plighted to each other. We shall conquer 
together. Dare no longer ask me to accept the ignominious 
terms of the congress of Chatillon. It is better to die beneath 
the ruins of my throne than be at the mercy of my enemies. 
The allies are in my rear, and the arrival of reenforcements 
will soon enable me to give them battle; I shall win, and it 
will be for me to dictate terms. Under the walls of Paris the 
grave of the Russians will be dug. My dispositions have been 
made, and I shall not fail.” * 

Caulaincourt sighed, and gazed with an air of painful as- 
tonishment on the serene face of the emperor. “Sire,” he 

* Napoleon’s words.— Vide Constant, “M6moires,” vol. vi., p. 48. 


472 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


said, solemnly, “ I call Heaven to witness that I have tried 
my best to incline your majesty to my prayers! You have 
refused to listen to me.” 

“ Because I am not at liberty to do so, Caulaincourt ; and, 
besides, I do not believe in your apprehensions. Suppose that 
Alexander and Frederick William should determine to con- 
tinue the war, there is a third sovereign who will decide the 
matter — the Emperor Francis, my father-in-law, and grand- 
father of the King of Rome. You see, therefore, that, 
though the present prospects were unfavorable to me, I should 
at least have nothing to fear from the Bourbons ; for the em- 
peror will not permit his daughter to be robbed of her 
crown, nor his grandson of his rightful inheritance.” 

“Sire,” said Caulaincourt, in a low voice, “do not rely too 
much on the attachment of the Emperor Francis. I know 
that, though he is your father-in-law, he has never forgotten 
the day when, after the battle of Austerlitz, he met you as an 
humble supplicant at your camp-fire, and begged you to spare 
him and make peace with him. I know that that recollec- 
tion has greater power over him than any bonds of relation- 
ship. I know that Metternich, who is still devoted to your 
majesty, vainly tried a few days ago to prevail upon the Em- 
peror Francis to intercede energetically with the other mon- 
archs for his son-in-law and daughter, and that he unsuccess- 
fully urged him to take into consideration the future of his 
grandson, the King of Rome.” 

“And what did the emperor reply?” asked Napoleon, 
quickly. 

“ Sire, the emperor replied, in his strong Austrian dialect, 
‘Do not always talk to me about the child! I have at home 
many children of whom I ought to think first. ’ ” * 

“ That is not true; he did not say so!” cried Napoleon. 

“ Sire, he did ; Prince Metternich told me so. ” 

Napoleon paused a moment. A low knocking at the door 
interrupted his meditation. One of the adjutants entered, 
and reported that the emperor’s equerry, Count Saint-Aignan, 
whom the emperor had intrusted with a mission, had re- 
turned, and requested an audience of his majesty. The em- 
peror himself hastened to the door, and eagerly motioned to 
the count to approach. “Well, Saint-Aignan,” he asked, 


* The Emperor Francis said : “ Rodt’s mier nitalleweil von dem Kin d ; bei mier 
z’ Haus hab 1 ich gar vielle Kinder, an die ich z’erst denken muess.”— Hormayr, 
“ Lebensbilder,’ 1 vol. i., p. 98. 


ON TO PARIS! 


473 


“ what did you find? How is the disposition of the people in 
the south of France?” 

“ Sire,” said the count, mournfully, “I bring no news that 
will gladden your majesty’s heart. Southern France is dis- 
contented ; the people are complaining of the duration of the 
war ; they desire peace at any price, and are disposed to re- 
sort to extreme measures in order to reestablish it.” 

“What does that mean?” asked the emperor. “I do not 
understand you; express yourself more distinctly.” 

“ Well, then, sire, the people there have read the proclama- 
tion of the Bourbons, and think of reinstating them, for the 
purpose of putting an end to the war.” 

“They will not dare to do that,” cried Napoleon, casting 
an angry glance on Saint-Aignan. 

“They have already, sire,” said the count. “The city of 
Bordeaux has declared for the Bourbons, and the Count 
d’Artois, as well as the Duke and Duchess d’Angouleme, 
have made their entrance into the city, and — ” 

“ And have been received with enthusiasm by the popula- 
tion!” cried Napoleon. “Pray, finish your sentence, and 
tell me so. Add that the inhabitants of Bordeaux have re- 
turned to their duty, and that you, too, have discovered what 
your duty is, and that you intend to return to the legitimate 
rulers of France ! Go! I permit you; I relieve you of the 
duties of your office! Go to the Bourbons!” 

Count Saint-Aignan did not stir; pallor overspread his 
cheeks; his eyes, fixed on the emperor with an indescribable 
expression of grief, filled with tears, and his quivering lips 
were unable to speak. 

“Sire,” said the Duke de Vicenza, “your majesty does in- 
justice to the count. You commanded him to give a reliable 
report of his mission; he was not at liberty, therefore, to con- 
ceal any thing, but was obliged to tell you the whole truth.” 

“The truth!” cried Napoleon, violently stamping, “that 
which you fear or desire you call the truth! You all see 
through the colored spectacles of your anxiety, and would 
compel me to do so, too; but I will not; my eyes are open, 
and see things as they are. Go, Count Saint-Aignan ; your 
report is finished!” The count, with a sigh, approached the 
door, and, slowly walking backward, left the room. “ The 
Bourbons!” murmured Napoleon to himself; “they shall not 
dare to threaten me with this spectre! There are no Bour- 
bons! I am the Emperor of France, and it is to me alone 
31 


474 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


that the French nation owes allegiance!” He looked thought- 
fully, with a dark and wrinkled forehead, but, presently lift- 
ing his head — “Oh, Caulaincourt,” he exclaimed, “I will 
personally satisfy myself whether the army of the allies is 
really in our rear, or whether your fears are well grounded. 
Let ns set out for Yitry !” 

“ Heaven be praised!” replied the Duke de Vicenza, joy- 
fully. “ All is not yet lost ; for Yitry is on the road to Paris. ” 

On the following morning the emperor moved with his 
forces toward Yitry, and took np his quarters at Marolles, a 
short distance from the little fortress. Here at length he was 
to find out the true state of affairs. He was met by inhabi- 
tants of Fere Champenoise, who had fled to Marolles, and in- 
formed him that Marshals Marmont and Mortier had suffered 
decisive defeats at the hands of the allies; that the divisions 
of General Pacthod and Aurey had been annihilated, and that 
the united armies of Bohemia and Silesia were in rapid 
march on Paris. 

An expression of terror passed over the face of Napoleon, 
and his equanimity seemed to be shaken; but he soon over- 
came the effect of this news, calmly remarking, “ Well, if the 
allies are marching on Paris, we must march too.” 

'‘Yes, on to Paris!” cried the marshals. “That is the 
most important point in present circumstances, and it can be 
defended, if the emperor hasten with his army.” 

“ On to Paris, then !” exclaimed Napoleon. “ But we must 
move with the speed of the wind!” He appeared to have 
regained his whole energy ; his eyes beamed again, his face 
resumed its old determination, and he issued his orders in a 
firm and cheerful voice. 

It was all-important to defend the emperor’s throne at 
Paris, and to protect the inheritance of the King of Rome 
from the allies and the Bourbons. Forward, then, by forced 
marches! Napoleon’s headquarters were soon at Montier-en- 
Der — much nearer the capital. On the 28th of March he 
reached Doulerant, when a horseman, covered with dust, pale 
and breathless, coming from the direction of the capital, gal- 
loped up to the head of the column. “ Where is the em- 
peror?” he cried. Having been conducted to him, “Sire,” 
he whispered, “ I am sent by the postmaster-general, your 
faithful Count La Yalette, to deliver this paper.” 

The emperor unfolded the paper and read. A slight 
tremor pervaded his frame, and his eyes grew gloomier. He 


ON TO PARIS! 


475 


cast another glance on the paper, and then, seizing it with 
his teeth, he tore it to pieces. None but himself was to learn 
the contents of that paper, which read : “ The adherents of 
the invaders, encouraged by the defection of Bordeaux, are 
raising their heads; secret intrigues are helping them. The 
emperor’s presence is necessary, if he wishes to prevent his 
capital from being delivered into the hands of the enemy. 
We must march immediately. Not a moment is to be lost.” * 

“Forward!” shouted the emperor. “We must hasten to 
Paris, and be there to-morrow!” The emperor, with the 
cavalry of his guard, headed the column. His countenance 
was still calm and impenetrable; but at times a gleam lit up 
his sombre eyes, as he moved on in a violent thunderstorm. 

Another courier galloped up and asked for the emperor. 
“ Announce me to him. The lieutenant-general of the em- 
pire, King Joseph, the emperor’s brother, sends me.” 

He was conducted to Napoleon, who received him with the 
words, “ News from my brother in Paris? Give me your dis- 
patch !” 

“ Sire, I have no dispatch to deliver ; dispatches may he 
lost, or revealed if their bearer should be arrested; but 
memory betrays nothing. I have ridden from Paris in four- 
teen hours. Here are my credentials, King Joseph’s signet- 
ring.” 

“ I recognize it. Speak !” By a wave of his hand Napoleon 
ordered the marshals to retire, and, bending his head toward 
his brother’s messenger, he repeated calmly, “ Speak !” 

“Sire,” whispered the messenger, “the king informs your 
majesty that the allies are near Paris; that Marshals Mar- 
mont and Mortier, though determined to defend the capital, 
have no hope of holding their positions. The king implores 
your majesty most urgently to leave nothing undone to hasten 
to the assistance of your capital.” f 

Having heard this message, the emperor’s face was un- 
veiled; it was quivering with anguish, and his eyes turned to 
heaven in despair. “Oh, if I had wings!” he cried, in an 
outburst of grief; “if I could be in Paris at this hour!” 
Then he became silent, and his head sank on his breast. His 
generals surrounded him, when he lifted his head again with 
drops of sweat on his forehead, but his face resumed its 
wonted calmness. “ General Hejean,” he cried, in a powerful 

*Fain, “Manuscrit de 1814.” 
tFain, “Manuscrit de 1814.” 


476 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


voice, “ ride to Paris as fast as you can. Inform my brother 
that I am making a forced march to the capital. Hasten 
then to Marmont and Mortier ; tell them to resist to the last, 
and leave nothing untried in order to hold out but for two 
days. In that time I shall be in front of Paris, and it is safe! 
Marmont is to dispatch a courier to Prince Schwartzenberg, 
and inform him that I have sent an envoy to the Emperor 
Francis with propositions leading to peace. Schwartzenberg 
will hesitate, and we shall gain time. Haste, Dejean, and 
remember that the fate of my capital rests with you!” 

When General Dejean rode off, Napoleon sought his faith- 
ful friend, the Duke de Vicenza. He was by his side before 
the emperor had uttered his name. “ Caulaincourt,” he said, 
in a gentle voice, “ you were right. I have lost two days. I 
might now be in Paris. Fate is behind me, intent on crush- 
ing me, and death itself refuses to take me ! At the battle of 
Bar-sur-Aube I did all I could to die while defending my 
country. I plunged into the thickest of the fight ; the balls 
tore my clothes, and yet not one of them injured me. I am 
a man doomed to live * — a man that, for the welfare of his 
people, is to subscribe his own humiliation and disgrace! 
Ci.ulaincourt, go to the Emperor Francis of Austria. Tell 
him I accept the ultimatum which the allies offered me at 
Chatillon. I sign the death-warrant of my glory! Hasten! 
And now, forward! In two days we must reach Paris!” 


CHAPTER L. 

DEPARTURE OF MARIA LOUISA. 

On the same day, and nearly at the same hour of the 29th 
of March, while the emperor was moving with his troops to- 
ward Paris, a scene of an entirely different description took 
place at the rooms of the empress, his consort, in the Tuile- 
ries. Napoleon, in his despair, wished for wings to fly to 
Paris; Maria Louisa, in her anguish, wished for wdngs to fly 
away from Paris; for the enemy was at its gates, and it was 
plain that the city must either capitulate or run the risk of 
an assault. 

As yet Maria Louisa called the allies threatening the throne 
of her husband, and the inheritance of her son, her enemies, 

♦Napoleon’s words. — Vide Bausset's “ MSmoires,” vol. ii., p. 246. 


DEPARTURE OF MARIA LOUISA. 


477 


although her own father was among them. She deemed her- 
self in duty bound to stand by her husband, to brave the 
vicissitudes of fortune jointly with him, and obey his will. 
The emperor desired that his consort and his son should not 
remain in the city if any danger should menace them. When 
the news reached the Tuileries that the allies had arrived at 
the walls of Paris, and it became obvious that the corps of 
Marmont and Mortier were not strong enough to withstand 
the armies of the enemy, King Joseph, the lieutenant of the 
emperor, summoned the regent, Maria Louisa, and the council 
of state, to deliberate on the grave question whether or not 
the empress and the King of Rome should remain, or be 
withdrawn to a place of safety beyond the Loire. 

The decision was left with Maria Louisa; but the regent 
had declared it was not for her to settle this question; it was 
for the very purpose of advising her and guiding her steps that 
the emperor had associated the council of state with her. 
King Joseph produced a letter from Napoleon of a nature to 
indicate his wishes. It was dated Rheims, 15th of March, 
and read: 

“ In accordance with the verbal instructions which I hjjve 
given, and with the spirit of all my letters, you are in no 
event to permit the empress and the King of Rome to fall into 
the hands of the enemy. I am about to manoeuvre in such a 
manner that you may possibly be several days without hearing 
from me. Should the enemy advance upon Paris with such 
forces as to render all resistance impossible, send off in the 
direction of the Loire the empress, the King of Rome, the 
great dignitaries, the ministers, the officers of the senate, 
the president of the council of state, the great officers of the 
crown, and the treasure. Never quit my son; and keep in 
mind that I would rather see him in the Seine than in the 
hands of the enemies of France ! The fate of Astyanax, a 
prisoner in the hands of the Greeks, has always appeared to 
me the most deplorable in history. 

“ Your brother, Napoleon.” * 

This, of course, put an end to all debate. The emperor’s 
precise and final order, providing for the very case which had 
occurred, could not be disregarded, and Maria Louisa accord- 
ingly determined to leave with her son and her suite for Ram- 
bouillet. The morning of the 29th of March was fixed for 
the departure. The travelling-carriages, loaded with bag- 

* Baron de Meneval, “Marie Louise et Napoleon,” vol. ii., p. 230. 


478 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


gage, stood in the court-yard of the Tuileries; but Maria 
Louisa still hesitated. Her travelling-toilet was completed ; 
her ladies were with her in the reception-room, filled with 
persons forming the cortege of the empress. All entered in 
mournful silence, and to their bows the empress responded 
only with a nod. Her eyes, red with weeping, were fixed on 
the door; she awaited in suspense the return of King Joseph, 
who had left the Tuileries at daybreak, and had gone to the 
gates of Paris to reconnoitre the enemy’s position. At first 
the departure was to have taken place at eight in the morn- 
ing; now it was past nine, and King Joseph had not yet re- 
turned. 

This unexpected delay increased the anxiety. None dared 
interrupt the breathless silence reigning in the apartment ; 
only here and there some one whispered, and, whenever a door 
opened, all started and turned anxiously toward it, as if ex- 
pecting a bearer of sad tidings. The face of the empress was 
pale and agitated ; her form trembled ; at times she turned 
toward her ladies, who stood behind her, and addressed to 
them some almost inaudible question, not waiting for a re- 
ply, but looking again toward the door, or inclining her head 
on her bosom. 

Suddenly the door was opened, and on the threshold ap- 
peared the little King of Rome, followed by his governess, 
Madame de Montesquiou. The boy’s face did not exhibit to- 
day its air of childlike mirth, which usually beamed like 
sunshine from his beautiful features. No smile was on his 
fresh lips, and his lustrous eyes were dimmed. With a sullen 
face and without looking at any one, the child, so intelligent 
for his years, stepped through the room directly toward his 
mother. “ Mamma empress,” he said, in his silvery voice, 
“ my ’Quiou says that we are about to leave Paris, and shall 
no longer live at the Tuileries. Is that true, mamma?” 

“Yes, my son, we must leave,” said the empress, in a low 
voice, “but we shall return.” 

“We must leave?” inquired the little king. “But my 
papa once said to me, the word ‘must’ is not for me, and I do 
not want it either, and I pray my dear mamma not to leave 
Paris with me.” 

“ But the emperor himself wishes us to leave, Napoleon,” 
said the empress, sighing, and with some displeasure. “ Your 
papa has ordered us to depart if the enemy should come.” 

“The enemy!” cried the boy; “I am not afraid of the en- 


DEPARTURE OF MARIA LOUISA. 


479 


emy. If he comes, we do as my papa emperor always does — 
we beat the enemy, and then he runs away.” 

But these words of the brave child, which would have de- 
lighted his father’s heart, seemed to make a disagreeable im- 
pression upon his mother. She murmured a few inaudible 
words, and slightly shrugged her shoulders. 

Madame de Montesquiou took the child by the hand. 
“Come, sire,” she said, in alow voice, “do not disturb her 
majesty. Come!” 

“No, no,” cried the boy, violently disengaging himself, “I 
am sure you want to carry me down to the carriage, and I tell 
you I will not go ! Let me stay here with my mother, dear 
’Quiou; I do not disturb her, for you see she is not busy, and 
she does not want to be alone either, for there are a great 
many persons with her. Therefore, I may stay here, too, may 
I not, dear mamma empress!” 

“Yes, my son, stay here,” said the empress, abstractedly, 
looking again at the door. 

“I am not afraid of the enemy,” cried the little king, 
proudly throwing back his head. “ My papa will soon come 
and drive him away. But tell me, mamma, what is the name 
of the enemy who wants to rob us of our beautiful palace? 
What is his name?” 

“Hush, Napoleon!” said the empress, almost indignantly; 
“ what good would it do you to hear what you do not under- 
stand?” 

“Oh, dear mamma,” cried the child, with a triumphant 
air, “ I can understand very well, for my papa has often played 
war on the floor with me, and we have built fortresses. And 
not long ago, papa emperor told me, too, that he was going 
to the army, and he spoke of his enemies. I remember them 
very well : they are the Emperor of Russia, who once kissed 
my papa’s hand, and thanked God that papa emperor con- 
sented to be his friend; the King of Prussia, from whom my 
papa could have taken all his states; the crown prince of 
Sweden, who learned the art of war from my papa, and is a 
faithless servant; and last, the Emperor of Austria. But tell 
me, mamma, is not he your father? And did you not tell me 
that I ought to pray every night for my grandfather, the 
Emperor of Austria?” 

“ I did tell you so, Napoleon,” whispered the empress, 
whose eyes filled with tears. 

The boy looked down for a moment musingly ; and then, 


480 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


lifting his large bine eyes to his mother, “Mamma,” he said, 
“ henceforth I shall never again pray for the Emperor of Aus- 
tria, for he is now my papa’s enemy, and, therefore, no longer 
my grandfather. No, no, I shall not pray for him, but only 
as my papa likes me to do.” And the boy knelt down, lifting 
up his hands, and exclaiming in a loud voice, “ Good God, 
I pray to Thee for France and for my father!” 

Expressions of deep emotion were heard in the room. The 
empress covered her face with her handkerchief, and wept 
bitterly. The little king was still on his knees, with his eyes 
raised toward heaven. Suddenly the door at which the 
empress had looked so long and anxiously, opened. It was 
not King Joseph who entered, but the adjutant of General 
Clarke, the regent’s minister of war. Approaching the 
empress, he begged leave to communicate a message from 
the minister. 

“Speak,” said Maria Louisa, hastily, “and loud enough 
for every one to hear the news.” 

“ His excellency, the minister of war, has commissioned me 
to implore your majesty in his name to leave without a mo- 
ment’s delay. He believes that every minute increases the 
danger, and that an hour hence it might be impossible for 
you to get away, because your majesty would then run the 
risk of falling into the hands of roving bands of Cossacks. 
The Russian corps are already near, and we shall soon hear 
their cannon thunder at the very gates of Paris. ” * 

“Well, then,” said Maria Louisa, with quivering lips, “be 
it so! Let us set out. ” 

All felt that the decisive hour was at hand. The empress 
quickly advanced a few steps. “Come!” she exclaimed, in 
feverish agitation. “ Let us set out for Rambouillet!” 

Suddenly her son grasped her hand and endeavored to draw 
her back. “ Dear mamma,” he cried, anxiously, “ do not go ! 
Rambouillet is an ugly old castle. Let us not go, but stay 
here!”f 

“It cannot be, my son; we must go!” 

But little Napoleon pushed back her hand with a gesture of 
indignation. “Well, then, mamma,” he said, “go! I will 
not go. I will not leave my house! As papa is not here, I 
am the master! and I say I ivill not go!” f 

The empress mo’tioned to the equerry on service. “ M. de 

* Meneval, “Marie Louise,” vol. ii., p. 266. 

t The little king’s words —Ibid. 

% Meneval, “ Marie Louise.” 


DEPARTURE OF MARIA LOUISA. 


481 


Comisy,” she ordered, “take the prince in your arms and 
carry him to the carriage.” 

“The prince! I am no prince, I am the King of Rome,” 
cried the boy, in the most violent anger. “ I will not go ! I 
will not leave my house ; I do not want you to betray my dear 
papa!” * The empress took no longer any notice of him ; M. 
de Comisy lifted the crying, struggling boy into his arms. 
“’Quiou, dear ’Quiou!” cried the child, “oh, come to my 
assistance! I will not leave my house!” 

“Sire,” said Madame de Montesquiou, weeping, “we must 
leave: the emperor has ordered us to do so!” 

“It is false!” cried the prince, bursting into a flood of 
tears, and still trying to disengage himself. “ My papa never 
ordered any such thing, for he says that one ought never to 
flee from the enemy. I will not go, I will not flee !” 

“Come, sire; come!” exclaimed M. de Comisy. 

“ I will not go !” said the boy, and clung to the door. But 
Madame de Montesquiou, vainly trying to comfort the prince 
by gentle words, disengaged his tiny hands, and M. de 
Comisy hurried on. The whole court, the whole travelling 
cortege thronged forward, following the empress and the King 
of Rome. 

Soon the brilliant apartment was empty; but the deserted 
rooms echoed the distant cries of the little King of Rome. 
All his struggles were in vain. M. de Comisy was not al- 
lowed to have pity on him ; the will of the empress had to 
be fulfilled. 

At length the preparations were completed, and all had 
taken their seats. The large clock on the tower of the 
Tuileries struck eleven as the empress’s carriage rolled slowly 
across the spacious court-yard. The crying of the little king, 
who sat by the side of his mother, was still heard. With 
them were also the mistress of ceremonies, the Duchess de 
Montebello, and the governess. Nine other carriages followed, 
decorated with the imperial coat-of-arms, and numerous bag- 
gage-wagons, and the whole train of a brilliant court. The 
procession filled the whole length of the court-yard of the 
Tuileries. 

When the carriage of the empress drove through the large 
iron enclosure, a small crowd of spectators stood near, and 
gazed in mournful silence. Not a hand was raised to salute 
the fugitives; not a voice shouted farewell. The sad train 

*The king’s words.— Vide “M6moires du Due de Rovigo,” vol. vii., p. 5. 


482 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


passed along, while the people looked after it, as if the funeral 
procession of the empire. The imperial party disappeared 
among the trees of the Champs Elysees , and left Paris by the 
“ Gate of Victory.” 


CHAPTER LI. 

THE CAPITULATION OP PARIS. 

The roar of cannon, which continued all the day long of 
the 30th of March, began now to cease; but the great battle 
which the allies fought under the walls of Paris with the corps 
of Marmont and Mortier, was not finished. Before resorting 
to a bombardment, and an assault on the city, conciliation 
was once more to be tried. Delegates of the monarchs, there- 
fore, repaired to the marshals, and requested them to consent 
to an honorable capitulation. 

“This is another instance of our foolish generosity!” 
growled Blucher, leaning back in his carriage. “ The whole 
rats’-nest ought to be demolished ; Bonaparte and the French 
would then have to submit. But I see already how it will be. 
The peace will be unsatisfactory, and our demands will be as 
modest as possible, lest we incur the displeasure of the dear 
French. — Pipe-master, hand me a short pipe! I must smoke, 
to stifle my anger.” 

“Your excellency,” said Christian, riding up to the car- 
riage, “ you have promised the surgeon general not to smoke 
much, and least of all a short pipe, because the hot smoke is 
injurious to the eyes. Your excellency has smoked six pipes 
to-day!” 

“And it seems to me that is very little! What are six 
pipes for a general-in-chief, who has to reflect so much as I 
have to-day? Give me a pipe, Christian; it is bad enough 
that I have to sit in such a monkey-box of a carriage, instead 
of riding on horseback at the head of my troops.” 

“ Nevertheless, every thing passed off very well,” said Chris- 
tian, calmly. “ You shouted your orders out of the carriage 
like a madman, and the generals and adjutants heard and 
executed all as if you had been on horseback among j;hem. 
In fact, it would have been only necessary for you to order, 
‘Forward!’ It would have been just as well, for your hus- 
sars were intent on nothing else; and, like their field-mar- 
shal, they wished only to reach Paris.” 


THE CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 


483 


“And now we have to wait here without firing a gun,” re- 
plied Blucher. “ Moreover, my eyes ache as if they were burn- 
ing. The sun has been blazing all day, as though curious to 
see whether or not we should take Paris; he has poured his 
rays on me since daybreak, and I had no protection for my 
old eyes. On looking out of the carriage early this morning 
I lost my shade ; the wind carried it off as though it were a 
kite. I have lost it, and, what is worse, I cannot even enter 
Paris, for we shall of course sign a capitulation.” 

“Here is the pipe, your excellency,” said Christian, “and 
now, good-by, field-marshal; I have to attend to a little private 
matter.” 

He galloped off, and Blucher looked after him. “ Happy 
fellow!” he said, sighing; “he can gallop as light as a 
bird, while I must sit here as a poor old prisoner!” At 
this moment his adjutant, Major von Nostiz, rode up to the 
field* marshal’s carriage. “AVell, Nostiz, tell me how things 
look in the outer world. What is the news?” 

“ Bad and good, your excellency,” said Nostiz. “ A murder- 
ous battle has taken place to-day, and we have sustained heavy 
losses. About eight thousand men were killed on our side, 
but in return we have gained a large number of trophies, 
field-pieces, caissons, and stands of colors.” 

“We ought to have taken all their colors!” cried Blucher, 
eagerly. “ What say the monarchs now, Nostiz? Will they 
still leave the Parisians the choice to suffer a bombardment 
or not?” 

“ The negotiations are still pending.” 

“Are the monarchs themselves taking part in them? Do 
they condescend to negotiate in person?” 

“ No, your excellency. The monarchs have returned to 
their quarters; the King of Prussia has gone to the village of 
Pantin, the Emperor of Russia to Bondy, and their representa- 
tives have repaired to the suburb of La Chapelle, where they 
are treating with Marshals Mortier and Marmont and their 
two adjutants in regard to the capitulation of Paris.” 

“ Would that their negotiations were unsuccessful — that we 
might have the pleasure of bombarding this infamous city 
which, for twenty years past, has brought so much misery on 
Europe!” 

“There is some prospect of it,” said Nostiz, smiling. 

“ The allies have demanded that the French corps should sur- 
render as prisoners of war. To this the marshals refused to 


484 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


accede, declaring that they would perish first in the streets, 
so the allies agreed to abandon this article. A discussion next 
rose as to the route by which the corps of Marmont and 
Mortier should retire, so as to be prevented from joining the 
approaching forces of the emperor, the allies insisting for that 
of Brittany, the French for any that they might choose. The 
marshals refused positively to agree to these demands. ” 

“They did!” cried Blucher, in an angry voice. “Well, I 
am glad of it, for I see now that we shall have a bombardment. 
Let us immediately make all necessary dispositions for it, in 
order that when the fun commences we may be ready. Bring 
me my horse!” With the activity of a youth Blucher opened 
his carriage and vaulted on the horse, which the groom led 
close to the carriage. For a moment he reeled in the saddle ; 
for he felt as if red-hot daggers were piercing his eyes, but he 
overcame his faintness and pain. “ Where are the members of 
my staff, Nostiz?” he asked, eagerly. 

“They are near, your excellency, at La Villette.” 

“ Let us ride, then, to La Villette, and thence up the Mont- 
martre. Nostiz, you will have immediately eighty or ninety 
pieces planted on the Montmartre, that, when the bombard- 
ment commences early in the morning, there may be no de- 
lay.* Make haste, Nostiz! There must be at least eighty 
pieces! We shall startle the Parisians out of their slumber,” 
growled Blucher, riding along the road to La Villette, attended 
by his orderlies; “let them see that another state of affairs 
exists, and that they are no longer the masters of the world, 
and able to trample others in the dust!” 

At La Villette, Blucher met the members of his staff, and, 
with Gneisenau and Muffling by his side, and followed by the 
other officers, rode up the heights of Montmartre. The sun 
had set, but his last beams still lingered in the evening clouds. 
The silence reigning around them after the uproar of the day, 
made upon their minds a solemn impression. At first the 
party engaged in an animated conversation, but it gradually 
ceased. Peaceful nature in this spring eventide contrasted 
the noise and bloodshed of the day with her own indifference, 
so that even Blucher himself was deeply moved. 

They reached the crest of the Montmartre. Paris — the 
long-feared, but now vanquished Paris, which for centuries 
had not seen a conquering enemy near its walls — lay at their 
feet. The steeples of Notre-Dame, of St. Genevieve, the 

* Varnhagen von Ense, “ Life of Blucher,'' p. 380. 


THE CAPITULATION OF PARIS. 


485 


large cupola of the Hotel des Invalides, the countless spires 
proudly looming up, the vast pile of the Tuileries, the Louvre, 
the Palais-Royal, where for twenty years Napoleon had given 
laws to trembling Europe, were plainly discerned. And this 
great city, with its temples and palaces, was in the hands of 
the enemy. They were Prussian generals who looked down 
from the heights of the Montmartre, and who for seven years 
had borne the disgrace of their country with sad yet coura- 
geous hearts; but this moment was a sufficient indemnity for 
the long years of wretchedness. 

“This, then, is Paris,” said Blucher, after a long pause, 
and his voice was gentle and tremulous. “ This is Paris, for 
which I have longed during seven years — the city which I 
knew my eyes would see, that I might die in peace ! Good 
God,” he cried, lifting his blue eyes toward heaven, and tak- 
ing off his cap, “ I thank Thee for having permitted us to be 
here, for lending us Thy assistance in attaining our object, 
and hurling from the throne the man who has so long been a 
terror to humanity. I thank Thee for having called us, the 
men who saw the disastrous day of Jena, to participate in the 
day of liberation! Blessed spirit of our Queen Louisa! if 
thou, with thine heavenly eyes that wept so much on earth, 
now lookest down upon us, behold our hearts full of gratitude 
toward God, and of love for thee as when thou wast among 
us! Thou hast assisted us in gaining the victory; assist us 
now, too, in profiting by it in a manner worthy ourselves, and 
for the welfare of the fatherland!” He paused, and, shading 
his face with his cap, prayed in a low voice. The generals 
followed his example; removing their hats, they offered silent 
prayers of gratitude to God. “ Now,” cried Blucher, putting 
on his cap again, “we have paid homage to Heaven, let us 
think a little of ourselves. I am still in hope that there will 
be a bombardment, and that we shall send our balls to the 
Parisians for breakfast to-morrow. I will, therefore, remain 
on the Montmartre, and establish here my quarters for the 
night.” 

“Field-marshal!” shouted a voice at a distance. “Field- 
Marshal Blucher, where are you?” 

“Here I am!” shouted Blucher. 

“And here I am!” cried Hennemann, galloping up. 

“Pipe-master, is it you?” asked Blucher, in amazement. 
“Well, what do you want, and where have you been so 
long?” 


486 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“ I have just brought an eye- shade for you, and here it is,” 
said Christian, handing with profound gravity a lady’s bonnet 
of green silk, with a broad green brim. 

“A bonnet!” exclaimed Blucher, laughing. “What am 
I to do with it?” 

“ Put it on,” said Christian, composedly. “ We can cut off 
the crown, then it will be a good shade; your excellency will 
put it on, and wear your general’s hat over it.” 

“That will do,” said Blucher. “But tell me, my boy, 
where did you get it?” 

“ I saw this afternoon a lady with a green bonnet at a villa 
near which I passed, and when you told me you ought to have 
an eye-shade, I thought immediately of the bonnet. Well, I 
rode to the house, and knocked so long at the door that they 
opened it. There were none but women at the house, and 
they cried and wailed dreadfully on seeing me. Well, I told 
them at once that I would not hurt them, but was only de- 
sirous of getting the green bonnet. While the women were 
raising such a hue-and-cry, another door opened, and the lady 
who owned the house came in, with the bonnet on. Well, I 
went directly to her, made her an obeisance, and said, 
‘Madame, be so kind as to give me your green bonnet for my 
field-marshal, who has sore eyes. ’ ” 

“Well, and did she understand your good Mecklenburg 
German?” inquired Blucher, smiling. 

“ No, she did not understand me apparently, but I made 
myself understood, your excellency.” 

“Well, what did you do?” 

“ Oh, your excellency, I simply stepped near her, took hold 
of the large knot by which her bonnet was tied under her 
chin, loosened it, seized the bonnet by the brim, and took it 
very gently from her head. She cried a little, and fainted 
away — but that will not hurt a woman ; I know she will soon 
be better. I secured my prize, and here I am, and here is 
your excellency’s eye-shade.” 

“And a good one it is. I thank you, my boy; I will wear 
it in honor of you, for my eyes are aching dreadfully, and I 
have need of a shade. I will raise this standard when we 
make our entrance into Paris, and I believe, pipe-master, the 
fair Parisians will rejoice at seeing me dressed in the latest 
Parisian fashion. But now, milliner, cut off the crown, else 
I cannot use it.” 

“ I will do so at once,” said Christian, taking a pair of scis- 


NIGHT AND MORNING NEAR PARIS. 


487 


sors from his dressing-pouch, and transforming a lady’s bon- 
net into an eye-shade. 

A few hours afterward, all was quiet on the Montmartre, 
and on all the other heights around Paris. After the battle 
the armies needed sleep, and it was undisturbed, for there 
was no longer an enemy to dispute their possession of the 
French capital. 


CHAPTER LI I. 

NIGHT AND MORNING NEAR PARIS. 

So the allied armies encamped and rested round the bivouac- 
fires, while, at a house in the suburbs of La Chapelle, the 
plenipotentiaries of the sovereigns were still negotiating with 
the French marshals the terms on which the city was to be 
surrendered. But he who now rode along the road to Paris 
at a gallop in an open carriage knew no peace or rest. His 
quivering features were expressive of alarm; ruin sat en- 
throned on his forehead, covered with perspiration. By his 
side sat Caulaincourt; behind him, Berthier and Flahault. 
The carriage thundered along at the utmost speed. “ Caulain- 
court, I shall arrive at Paris in time,” murmured the em- 
peror ; “ we are already at Fromenteau ; in an hour we shall be 
there. The watch-fires of the enemy are seen on the opposite 
bank of the Seine. Ah, I shall extinguish them; to morrow 
night the enemy will not be so near. — But what is that? Do 
you hear nothing? Have the carriage stopped!” 

Berthier shouted to the driver — the carriage stopped. They 
all heard a sort of hollow noise. 

“ It is a squad of cavalry riding along this road,” whispered 
Caulaincourt. 

“ It is artillery,” murmured Napoleon. “ Forward! They 
can only be our own men. But why are they retreating from 
Paris? Forward!” 

The carriage rolled on. And from the other side of the 
road a dark mass, with a rumbling noise, moved toward them. 
Napoleon was not mistaken, nor was Caulaincourt mistaken. 

“ Who is there?” shouted the emperor to the horsemen at 
the head of the column. “ Halt!” 

“ It is the emperor!” cried a voice, in amazement, and a 
horseman dismounting in a moment approached the carriage. 


488 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“It is General Belliard,” exclaimed the emperor, and 
alighted hastily from his carriage. “ General, whither are 
you moving? What about Paris?” 

“ Sire, all is lost!” said Belliard, after a mournful pause. 

“ How so?” cried Napoleon, vehemently. “ You see I am 
coming! I shall be in Paris in an hour. I will call out the 
National Guard, and put myself at the head of the troops.” 

“ Sire, we are too weak; the enemy is five times stronger.” 

“ But I am there, and my name will increase the strength 
of my army fivefold.” 

“ Sire, it is too late.” 

“Too late! What do you mean?” 

41 Marmont and Mortier have capitulated ; we are taking 
advantage of the night to evacuate Paris, while the marshals 
are still negotiating the terms of capitulation.” 

A single cry of anger burst from Napoleon’s lips; then, as 
if crushed by the blow, his head dropped on his breast. Re- 
covering himself in a moment, he said, imperiously : “ Gen- 
eral Belliard ! return with your troops ; I shall be there before 
you reach the city. Resuming hostilities, I will call upon all 
Paris to take up arms; the people love me, they will remain 
faithful; the majority of the working-men are composed of 
old soldiers. They know how to fight, and I will lead them. 
We shall fight as the Spaniards fought against us at Saragossa, 
defending with our blood the streets of our capital ; detaining 
the enemy at least for a day, my army will arrive, and we shall 
be strong enough to give battle. I must go to Paris; when 
I am not there, they do nothing but blunder ! My brother 
Joseph is a pusillanimous and easily-disheartened man, and 
Minister Clarke is a blockhead. Marmont and Mortier are 
traitors deserving death, for they violated my express instruc- 
tions. I asked them to hold out only two days, and the traitors 
capitulated before they had elapsed! Oh, I shall hold them 
responsible for it: I know how to punish traitors and pol- 
troons!” He hurried on in a rapid step, General Belliard 
walking by his side, and Caulaincourt, Berthier, and Fla- 
hault following him. “I must go to Paris,” cried the em- 
peror, after a momentary pause. “ Order my carriage!” 

“Sire,” said Belliard, solemnly, “it is no longer possible 
for your majesty to read) Paris. You would run the risk of 
falling into the hands of the vanguard of the allies. If your 
majesty were at Paris, it would be of no avail. The enemy 
is in possession of all the heights, and they can bombard the 


NIGHT AND MORNING NEAR PARIS, 


489 


city without being interfered with bv the exhausted troops of 
Mortier and Marmont. Sire, all is lost; there is no prospect 
which would justify us to hope for a favorable change.” 

“ To Paris!” cried the emperor. “ You say I can no longer 
enter the city. Well, then, I shall put myself at the head of 
the troops of Marshals Mortier and Marmont, and, while the 
allies are making their entrance into the city, resume the 
struggle.” 

“Sire,” said Belliard, mournfully, “ it is too late, the mar- 
shals have agreed to surrender Paris; it was only on this con- 
dition that our troops were allowed to move out. The capitu- 
lation cannot be broken.” 

“ AVhat do I care for the capitulation of traitorous mar- 
shals?” said the emperor, stamping; “my will alone reigns 
here, and my will is, that the troops face about and follow 
me. — Say, Hulin,” said the emperor, turning toward the com- 
mander of Paris, who had just approached him, “are you not 
of my opinion? The troops should return to Paris?” 

“No, sire,” said General Hulin, sighing, “the capitulation 
has already been concluded, and it does not permit the soldiers 
to return on any pretext.” 

“Are you of the same opinion?” asked Napoleon, turning 
toward General Curial, who had just come up with a corps of 
infantry, and saluted the emperor. 

“I am, sire,” said Curial. “ The capitulation has been con- 
cluded, and we are happy to have received permission for our 
troops, who are exhausted, to evacuate the city. We are al- 
ready on the march in the direction of Fontainebleau. We 
have no hope of conquering, and we could only be involved in 
a last dreadful but useless carnage. Your majesty cannot 
desire that. Have pity on poor France, bleeding from a 
thousand wounds; you do not wish the enemy to bombard the 
heart of our country.” 

“ And you?” asked Napoleon, turning his eyes, with an ex- 
pression of agony, toward his attendants. “ Caulaincourt, 
do you, too, share the views of these gentlemen?” 

“ Yes, sire,” said Caulaincourt, with tears in his eyes. “ It is 
too late to conquer ; , it only remains for us to save what we can. ” 

“ And you, Berthier and Flahault?” 

“ Sire, that is our opinion ! It is too late; all is lost!” 

Napoleon’s sigh sounded like a death-rattle. “ Well, then,” 
he said, in a faint, hollow voice, “ I will return to Fontaine- 
bleau.” 


33 


490 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Napoleon reentered his carriage. When his three attend- 
ants had taken seats, he rose and called out in a commanding 
voice, “General Belliard!” The general approached the car- 
riage hesitatingly; he was still afraid lest the emperor should 
change his mind. 

“Belliard,” said Napoleon, “dispatch immediately an or- 
derly to Marshals Marmont and Mortier, and communicate to 
them that they march their troops to Essonne, ten leagues 
south of Paris; there they are to take a position, and await 
further orders.— To Fontainebleau!” 

The carriage passed again along the road by which it had 
arrived, hearing away a wearied and despairing man, who a 
moment before was full of hope and energy. The clock of 
the village of Jurissy struck twelve, when he halted in front 
of the “Cour de France,” and had the horses changed. 
“ Caulaincourt,” he said, hurriedly, “alight, take post-horses, 
and hasten to Paris! Penetrate to the headquarters of the 
Emperor Alexander! Prevent the capitulation — do so in my 
name ; you have full powers ! Negotiate, consent to any treaty 
that recognizes me as sovereign of France!” * 

It was past midnight, and with a new day began a new era. 
The rising sun shone upon the brilliant array of the allies. 
The terms of the capitulation had been adjusted at two in the 
morning. It was stipulated that the marshals should evacu- 
ate Paris at seven on the same day; that the public arsenals 
and magazines be surrendered in the same state in which they 
were when the capitulation was concluded ; that the National 
Guard, according to the pleasure of the allies, be either dis- 
banded, or employed under their direction in the service of 
the city; that the wounded and stragglers, found after ten in 
the morning, be considered prisoners of war ; and that Paris 
be recommended to the generosity of the sovereigns, f 

It was now eight in the morning, and the corps of the allied 
troops that were to make their entrance into the city were in 
readiness. A staff, composed of hundreds of Austrian, Rus- 
sian, Prussian, Wurtemberg, Bavarian, and Swedish generals, 
awaited the arrival of the Emperor of Russia and the King of 
Prussia, when the triumphal march into Paris would take 
place. 

Overcoming his pain, and keeping erect by a violent effort, 
Field-Marshal Blucher had himself dressed by his servants. 

* Beitzke, vol. iii., p. 496. 
t“M6moires du Due de Rovigo,” vol. iii, 


NIGHT AND MORNING NEAR PARIS. 


491 


The toilet was finished, and, attired in his uniform, covered 
with glittering orders, he stepped from his bedroom, and sent 
for Christian. “Pipe-master,” he said, “I am ready now, 
and believe I look quite imposing; but you must adjust the 
last ornament of my toilet. You captured it, and ought to 
add it to my uniform.” 

“ What ornament, your excellency?” 

“Well, the eye-shade, Christian. Come and adorn me!” 
He handed the crownless bonnet to Christian, and sat down 
on a chair. The article was carefully placed on the head of 
the field-marshal, so that his bald scalp protruded from the 
aperture of the shade like a full moon surrounded by a green 
halo. He then carefully pat on it the field-marshal’s hat, 
with its waving plumes and gold-lace.* 

“Now I am ready,” said Blucher, rising. 

At this moment the door opened, and General Gneisenau, 
accompanied by Surgeon-General Voelzke, entered the room. 

“What!” exclaimed Gneisenau, in amazement. “An hour 
ago I found you in bed, a prey to a raging fever, complaining 
of your eyes; and now you have not only risen, but are in full 
feather, and ready for the march into the city!” 

“Why, yes, of course, I am,” said Blucher, sullenly. “I 
must make my entry, I must keep my word, and get into 
Paris after aiding in getting hivi out of it.” 

“ That is to say,” cried Dr. Voelzke, “you intend to break 
your pledge, and prove faithless to your oath?” 

“ What oath?” asked Blucher, greatly surprised. 

“ Did you not solemnly pledge me your word four days ago, 
your excellency, to submit to my treatment for two weeks, and 
adhere to my instructions?” 

“ Yes, and I think I have kept my word. I have swallowed 
your medicines, pills, and powders, rubbed in your salves, 
and applied your plasters, in accordance with your directions, 
although I must say that all this did not help me any.” 

“ But your eyes have not grown any worse, and they will 
soon improve, if you continue my treatment.” 

“ Well, what do you want me to do, then?” 

“ You must stay here. You must not be six or eight hours 
on horseback ; you must not expose yourself so long to the 
dust and sun.” 

“What! I am not to participate in the entrance of the 
monarchs into Paris?” cried Blucher, indignantly. 

*Varnhagen, “Life of Blucher,” p. 382. 


492 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


“I implore your excellency not to do so,” said the phy- 
sician, in an impressive tone. “ Give yourself a few days’ rest 
and recreation, and your eyes will get well; but if you ex- 
pose yourself to-day I shall never again cross your threshold, 
for I do not care to be disgraced by the report that Field- 
Marshal Blucher lost his eyesight while under my care; and I 
tell you, you will be blind, and then I can do nothing for you.” 

“Stay here, your excellency,” begged Gneisenau; “do not 
trifle with your dear eyes, destined to see still many beautiful 
things, and gladden the world by their heroic glances ! What 
can a triumph of a few hours’ duration be to you to whom 
every day will be a triumph, and whom delivered Germany 
awaits to greet with manifestations of love and gratitude?” 

“ Ah, it is not for the sake of the triumph that I wish to 
go,” cried Blucher, morosely. “ But I have sworn, for seven 
years, and it has been my only consolation, that, in spite of 
Bonaparte, I would make my triumphal entrance into Paris, 
as Bonaparte did into Berlin, and now you insist on my not 
fulfilling my oath !” 

“ You will nevertheless make your entrance into Paris,” ex- 
claimed Gneisenau ; “ though your person be absent, your 
name will float as our banner of victory over the monarclis, 
and all know full well that Blucher is the conqueror.” 

“Stay!” begged Voelzke; “think of the pain which you 
have already suffered, and of that you will suffer, and of 
which I give you sufficient warning.” 

“Yes, field-marshal,” begged Hennemann, with tearful 
eyes, “ pray do what the doctor says; do not hazard your sight; 
for, let me say, field-marshal, a blind man is like a pipe that 
will not draw; both of them will go out.” 

“ Well, I do not care,” cried Blucher, “ I will stay. It will 
not hurt me. My task is performed, and it makes no differ- 
ence to me how I enter Paris. I have my share of the victory, 
and no one can take it from me. He has been cast down, and 
none will deny that I assisted.” 

“Well, I think I have also assisted a little in it,” said 
Christian, solemnly; “for had I not always kept the pipes in 
so good a state, the field-marshal would not have had such 
successful ideas, nor could he have so well said, ‘Forward!’ ” 

“You are right, pipe-master,” said Blucher, pleasantly. 
“ The pipe— but what is that? Was not that a gun, and there 
another? Have the negotiations miscarried, after all, and 
the bombardment commenced in earnest?” 


NAPOLEON AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 


493 


“No, your excellency,” said Gneisenau, smiling, “you must 
give up that hope! These are the guns which give the troops 
the signal that the monarchs have arrived, and that the march 
into the city is to commence.” 

“Well, good-by, then; make haste and leave!” cried 
Blucher, pushing Gneisenau and Voelzke toward the door. 

They left, and the field-marshal was again alone with 
Christian Hennemann. 

“Well,” he said, “give me a pipe; while the others are 
making their entrance into Paris, I want you to afford me a 
little pleasure, too. Come here, therefore, and sing to me 
the Low-German song which you sang to me on the day when 
you arrived at Kunzendorf.” 

The reports of the artillery continued; the monarchs were 
entering Paris. The field-marshal in the mean time sat with 
the green bonnet on his head, puffing his pipe. No one was 
with him but Christian Hennemann, who sang in a loud voice, 
“ Spinn dock , spinn dock, milm liitt lewes Dochting ! ” 


CHAPTER LI 1 1 . 

NAPOLEON AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 

Napoleon passed seven days of indescribable mental an- 
guish at Fontainebleau. Adversity had befallen him, but he 
bore it with the semblance of calmness, uttering no complaint. 
His was still the cold, inscrutable face of the emperor, such as 
it had been on his triumphal entrance into Berlin and Madrid, 
after the victories of Austerlitz and Jena, in the days of 
Erfurt and Tilsit, at the conflagration of Moscow, at the Ber- 
esina, and at Leipsic. He gave no expression to his soul’s 
agony. It was only in the dead of night that his faithful ser- 
vants heard him sometimes sigh, pacing his room, restless and 
melancholy. He did not yet feel wholly discouraged; he still 
hoped. His bravest marshals were still with him ; his Old 
Guard had not yet gone, and at Paris there were many devoted 
friends, because they owed to him honor and riches. 

He was hopeful that Marmont’s troops would arrive at Fon- 
tainebleau, when, concentrating all his corps, he would 
march with them and reconquer his capital. Engrossed with 
this idea, he was alone in his cabinet; bent over his maps, he 
examined the various positions of his troops, and considered 


494 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


when they might all reach him. But while he was thinking 
of war, his marshals were thinking of peace. They had with- 
drawn into one of the remote apartments of Fontainebleau for 
the purpose of holding a secret consultation. There were his 
old comrades Ney, Prince de la Moskwa; Macdonald, Duke 
de Tarento; Lefebvre, Duke de Dantzic; Oudinot, Duke de 
Reggio — all of them owing their glory to Napoleon: it was, 
therefore, pardonable if he confided in their gratitude — but 
gratitude to the fallen, who had nothing more to give, and 
whose misfortunes resembled an infectious disease, repelling 
even his dearest friends. 

“He is lost,” said Oudinot, in an undertone; “he is on 
the edge of the precipice, and those who abide by him will 
fall with him.” 

“We must, therefore, leave him,” whispered Lefebvre. 
“ We are unable to keep him back; prudence commands us to 
keep aloof.” 

“We have suffered and bled for him for years,” said Mac- 
donald; “ it is time now for him to suffer and bleed for us. 
His death would be a relief.” 

“Yes,” murmured Ney, “his death would give us a new 
life. But he will not die; his heart is made of bronze, and 
will not break.” 

“No, he will not die voluntarily,” said Oudinot. 

The marshals paused and looked at each other with dark and 
significant glances. All seemed to read each other’s souls, and 
to divine the sinister thoughts that began to find utterance. 

“No, he will not die voluntarily,” repeated Macdonald. 
“ But the millions of soldiers that have fallen on the battle- 
fields have not died voluntarily, either : Napoleon drove them 
into the jaws of death. Now he is no longer any thing but a 
mere soldier; could we be blamed, if, in order to save France, 
we should drive him into the grave?” 

“But how could we do it?” asked Lefebvre. “He has 
with him Caulaincourt, Berthier, and Maret, who would cer- 
tainly be capable of showing, like Anthony, the blood-stained 
cloak of Caesar to the people, and of bringing upon us a destiny 
such as befell Brutus and Cassius. I am not desirous of see- 
ing my house set on fire, and of being compelled to flee.” 

“We ought not to imitate Caesar’s generals,” said Ney, 
gloomily. “ He has lived like a demi-god, and must die like 
a demi-god. Not a vestige of him must remain ; he must, 
like Romulus, ascend to the gods.” 


NAPOLEON AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 


495 


“ Let us consider what ought to be done,” said Macdonald. 

They whispered in low tones, so that they themselves 
scarcely heard each other. After a prolonged secret consul- 
tation, they seemed agreed as to what should be done, and as 
if there were now no longer any doubt or objection. 

“ Caulaincourt, Bertrand, and Maret, are alone to be feared,” 
said Oudinot, loudly. “ If they refuse to be silent, they must 
be silenced! And Berthier? what are we to do with Ber- 
thier?” 

“We shall tell him all when it is over,” responded Mac- 
donald, with a shrug. “ Berthier is not formidable; he has a 
heart of cotton, and a head of wind.” 

All laughed ; Oudinot then said, in a grave and menacing 
voice: “It is time for us to come to a decision. We are al- 
ready in April, and nothing decided ; the Emperor of Russia 
is impatient, and the future King of France will never forgive 
us if we delay his return to Paris. Come, gentlemen, let us 
for the last time try the way of kindness and persuasion. 
Let us openly and honestly advise Napoleon to abdicate; he 
must make up his mind to do so, or — ” 

“Or we shall compel him,” said Macdonald. “He has 
often enough compelled us to do what was repugnant to us. 
Come, gentlemen, let us go to the emperor.” * 

The emperor was sill bending over his maps when the four 
marshals entered his cabinet. With a quick glance he read 
in their pale, sullen faces that they came to him, not as 
friends and servants, but as adversaries. “I am glad,” he 
said calmly, “ that you anticipate my request, and come to me 
when I intended to send for you. We must hold a council of 
war, marshals. I have determined to make a general assault 
upon the allies to-morrow, and I wished to assemble you here 
to lay the details of my plan before you. One of you may go 
and call Berthier, who should participate in our delibera- 
tions.” 

“Sire,” said Ney, in a harsh tone, “before entering into 
deliberations on the war, we should first consider whether it 
is still desirable.” Napoleon cast on him a glance which once 
would have frozen the marshal’s blood, but which now made 
no impression on him. “ I believe,” added Ney, “ that France 
can no longer bear the burden of war. She is exhausted, 
bleeding from many wounds, and would sink to certain ruin 
if she continue a useless struggle. Her finances cannot be 

* “Memoirs of the Duchess d’Abrantes." 


496 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


restored, for the people are destitute. Our fields are un- 
cultivated, our industry is paralyzed; our workshops and 
stores are closed, our commerce is prostrated, for France is 
destitute of money, credit, and laborers. What means has 
your majesty to shield her from the most terrible misfortunes?” 

“I have but one — to attack the allies to-morrow, expelling 
those who have caused all the misfortunes of France.” 

“ Sire, our country is tired of war,” cried Ney; “ she wants 
peace.” 

“Is that your opinion, marshals?” asked the emperor, 
hastily. 

“ Yes, sire, it is.” 

“Well, then,” said Napoleon, after a moment’s reflection, 
“do you know of any way of restoring peace?” 

The marshals were silent. Their lips seemed to shrink from 
uttering the thoughts of their souls; but the Prince de la 
Moskwa, Marshal Ney, overcame his timidity. “Sire,” he 
remarked, “the allies say in their proclamation that it is not 
France against which they wage war.” 

“Not France, but myself!” cried Napoleon. “Ah, you 
come to propose an abdication to me?” 

“We come to implore your majesty to make a last great 
sacrifice.” 

“Sire,” exclaimed Oudinot, “let your heroic soul conquer 
itself, and restore peace to France.” 

“ She will forever bless you,” said Lefebvre. 

“ Restore to France the peace for which she has been vainly 
longing for twenty-five years!” cried Macdonald. 

Now that they had all spoken, there was an anxious, 
breathless pause. Suddenly Napoleon passed over to his desk. 
He cast a last glance, full of pride, contempt, and anger, on 
his four marshals; then, seating himself, he took up a pen 
with a firm hand, and wrote. The marshals stood in silence, 
and looked at him in an embarrassed manner. Laying aside 
the pen, and rising, he held up the paper on which he had 
written, and motioned to Marshal Ney. “ Here, Prince de 
la Moskwa,” said Napoleon, “read to the marshals what I 
have 'written.” 

Ney read in a tremulous voice: “ ‘The allied powers, having 
proclaimed that the Emperor Napoleon is the sole obstacle to 
the reestablishment of peace in Europe, the Emperor Napo- 
leon, faithful to his oath, declares that he is ready to descend 
from the throne, to quit France, and even life itself, for the 


NAPOLEON AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 


497 


good of the country, inseparable from the rights of his son, 
of the regency of the empress, and of the maintenance of the 
laws of the empire. ’ ” * 

“You have willed it so,” said Napoleon, when Ney had 
finished. “ Macdonald and Ney, with Caulaincourt, will im- 
mediately repair with this document to Paris. On the way 
they will meet Mortier, and request him to accompany them. 
The four dukes will present my conditional abdication to the 
Emperor Alexander, and treat with him in regard to the 
future of my son and the regency of my consort.” 

On the 7th of April the Duke de Vicenza entered the em- 
peror’s cabinet, pale and with a mournful air. 

“Caulaincourt,” cried Napoleon, “you have delivered my 
abdication to Alexander?” 

“Yes, sire,” said Caulaincourt, sadly. “Ah, sire, I bring 
bad news, which my lips almost refuse to utter!” 

“Speak, I am courageous enough to hear all; be, then, 
courageous enough to tell me all. I wish no concealment 
whatever — I desire to know the whole truth.” 

“ Well, sire, all is lost. The Emperor Alexander has issued 
to-day a manifesto, which has been placarded over every part 
of Paris, to the effect that ‘he would no longer treat with 
Bonaparte, nor with any member of his family. ’ ” 

“Ah, the perfidious wretch!” murmured Napoleon, “he 
plighted me once eternal friendship and fidelity. — Proceed, 
Caulaincourt! What says the so-called provisional govern- 
ment presided over by M. Talleyrand, the renegade priest, 
whom I made a man of distinction, whom I raised to the dig- 
nity of a prince, on whom I lavished honors, and who has now 
become the leader of the royalists? What say M. Talleyrand, 
and the provisional government, and the senate, who swore 
allegiance to me?” 

“ Sire, the senate solemnly declared yesterday, the 6th of 
April, that the Emperor Napoleon has forfeited his throne, 
because, by abusing the powers conferred on him, by despot- 
ism, by trampling under foot the liberty of the press, by 
undertaking wars in violation of right, and by his openly 
manifested contempt of man and human law, he has rendered 
himself unworthy of the sovereignty of the nation. The sen- 
ate, besides, have called back the Bourbons to the throne of 
France. In consequence of this declaration, the provisional 
government has proclaimed to-day that, till the arrival of King 
*Fain, “Manuscrit de 1814,” p. 221. 


498 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


Louis XVIII., the administration is exclusively in their 
hands.” 

“Ah, the traitors!” cried Napoleon. “They have dared 
to proclaim such sentiments! to carry their impudence so 
far ! See what venal creatures those men are ! As long as 
fortune was faithful to me, they, who now call themselves the 
provisional government and senate, in the name of France, 
were my most sycophantic servants. A sign from me was an 
order for the senate, who always did more than was desired of 
them,, and not a whisper was heard against the abuses of power. 
Ah, they charge me with despising them — tell me, Caulain- 
court, will not the world see now whether or not I had reasons 
for my opinion?” * 

“ Sire, it is true, your majesty has met with many ingrates 
during your career, and will still meet with them, ” said Caulain- 
court, sighing. “ Perfidy seems to have become an epidemic.” 

“Ah, I see you have not yet told me every thing. Speak! 
In the first place, what was the result of your negotiations 
with the Emperor Alexander?” 

“ Sire, if your majesty agrees to renounce, for yourself and 
your heirs, the throne of France, the allied sovereigns offer 
Corsica or Elba as a sovereign principality, and France will 
pay your majesty an annual pension of two million francs.” 

“ I am to renounce the throne, too, for my son — my dear 
little King of Rome?” cried Napoleon, mournfully. “No, 
never! I cannot deprive my son of his inheritance. This 
is too much. I will put myself at the head of my army and 
run the risk of any calamities, rather than submit to a humil- 
iation worse than them all!” 

“ Your majesty has no army. Treason has infected your 
marshals.” 

“What do you mean? Ah, it is true, you come alone! 
Where are the marshals? Where is Ney? Where is Mac- 
donald?” 

“Sire, they have remained in Paris.” 

“Ah, I understand,” exclaimed Napoleon, with a scornful 
laugh; “they are waiting therefor King Louis XVIII., in 
order to offer him their services. But where is Marmont? 
You know well that I am greatly attached to Marmont, and I 
long to see him. Why does he not come?” 

“ Sire, Marshal Marmont has passed over to the allies with 
a corps of ten thousand men.” 

*Fain, “Manuscrit da 1814,” p. 225- 


A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 


499 


“Marmont!” cried Napoleon, almost with a scream — ■ 
“ Marmont a traitor ! That is false — that is impossible ! 
Marmont cannot have betrayed me!” 

“ Sire, he did betray yon. He marched the troops, notwith- 
standing their undisguised reluctance, to Versailles, in order 
there to join the allies, after receiving from them the solemn 
promise that the French soldiers should be treated as friends.” 

“ Marmont has betrayed me !” murmured Napoleon. “ Mar- 
mont, whom I loved as a son — who owes me all — who — ” 
His voice faltered; his heart was rent, and, sinking on a 
chair, he buried his quivering face in his hands. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 

It was the 11th of April. Napoleon, at Fontainebleau, sat at 
his desk and stared at the paper before him. It contained an 
absolute resignation of his throne for himself and his family. 
After signing this document, he was no more Emperor of 
France, nor his son King of Rome, nor his consort empress 
— perhaps, no longer even his wife. By signing this paper, 
he accepted all the conditions imposed on him by the allies; 
that is to say, he descended from the sovereignty of all his 
states and went to the little island of Elba, to live there a pen- 
sioner of Europe; his consort wore no longer, like him, the 
imperial title, but became Duchess of Parma; and the King 
of Rome became not the heir of his father, the Emperor of 
Elba, but the heir of his mother, the Duchess of Parma, and 
the title of “ Duke de Reichstadt ” was to be given him. He 
renounced not only France, but his wife and his son ! 

Napoleon was fondly and sincerely attached to Maria 
Louisa, and he loved the King of Rome with passionate ten- 
derness. Before consenting, therefore, to affix his signature 
to this, act of abdication, he wished to know whether Maria 
Louisa agreed to it, and whether she would not at least ask 
the allies, one of whom was her own father, to permit her to 
reside with her son and her husband on the island of Elba, 
sharing the emperor’s exile. For some time he had not heard 
from his consort ; he wrote to her every day, but for six days 
past no answers came. He did not, however, distrust her ; he 
knew that Maria Louisa loved him. His heart longed for 


500 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


her and his child. He had sent Berthier to Orleans the day 
before with a letter for Maria Louisa. He was to tell him 
what his consort was thinking and wishing. If she was 
courageous enough to claim her rights, and desired to do so, 
Berthier was to convey her to the emperor, and, at Fontaine- 
bleau, Maria Louisa was to declare to her father that she 
insisted on her sacred right of staying with her husband. 
Napoleon expected this, and he was nervous and anxious, 
waiting for the return of his general, and in hope that Maria 
Louisa would accompany him. 

He contemplated the paper, and, while reading the words 
of despair, he thought of the past — of the days when Europe 
had been at his feet, and when he himself showed no mercy. 
The door of the cabinet was softly opened, and the Duke de 
Bassano entered. “Maret,” he exclaimed, “you come to in- 
form me that Berthier has returned, do you not?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

“And he — he is alone?” 

“Yes, sire, he is alone.” 

Napoleon sighed. “Admit Berthier,” he said, “but stay 
here.” 

Maret stepped to the door and opened it. The Prince of 
Neufchatel entered, mournful and silent. A single glance 
told Napoleon that his mission had failed. 

“ Well, Berthier, you have seen the empress?” 

“I have, sire. I met the empress leaving Orleans.” 

“Ah, then, she is coming!” exclaimed Napoleon. 

“ No, sire. Prince Metternich had paid her a visit on the 
preceding day, and delivered to her autograph letters from 
her father the Emperor of Austria. He had asked his daughter 
to repair to Rambouillet, where he would meet her. ” 

“And Louisa consented?” 

“ She did, sire. Her majesty told me with tears in her 
eyes that nothing remained for her but to submit to the will 
of her father, because only his intercession could secure her 
own future and that of her son. She deplored that she was 
not at liberty to come to Fontainebleau, but stated she had 
solemnly pledged her word to Prince Metternich, who, in the 
emperor’s name, had required a pledge neither to see nor to 
correspond with your majesty.” 

“And she did not indignantly reject this base demand?” 
cried the emperor. “ She did not remember that she is my 
wife, and that she plighted her faith to me?” 


A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 


501 


“ Sire, the empress said that, for her son’s sake, she was al- 
lowed now only to consider herself a princess of Austria, and 
the Austrian princesses were all educated in unconditional 
and unmurmuring obedience to the orders of the emperor 
their father.* Hence, she obeyed her father now, in order 
to enjoy at a later time the happiness of belonging to your 
majesty. For, as soon as her future was secured, as soon as 
the duchy of Parma was settled upon her, and her son de- 
clared its heir, nothing would prevent her from rejoining 
her beloved husband ; and if your majesty agreed to accept 
the island of Elba, the empress would certainly soon repair 
thither. She proposed that, prohibited from directly corre- 
sponding with your majesty, you might have intercourse 
through your private secretaries; your majesty might have 
Baron Fain write to her all you wished her to know, and she 
would do the same through Baron de Meneval.” 

“A genuine woman’s stratagem,” murmured Napoleon, 
gloomily, to himself. “ She is destitute of courage, and does 
not love me enough to brave her father. — Berthier,” he then 
asked aloud, “did you see my son?” 

“ No, sire, they would not let me see the prince ; they feared 
lest it would excite him too much, and remind him of the 
past. For the King of Rome is constantly longing for his 
father.” 

“ And his father cannot see him — cannot call him to his 
side! Oh, Berthier, this is painful, very painful!” 

“But your majesty will soon be reunited with him,” said 
Maret, feelingly. “Sign the act of abdication; go to Elba, 
sire, and no one can prevent the empress from coming to you 
with her son. She wishes and has a right to do so.” 

“Well, then, be it so,” said the emperor, drawing a deep 
breath. “ I will sign every thing. I will abdicate ; I will 
sign this second treaty, which makes me Emperor of Elba! 
My wife and my son must be restored to me!” He quickly 
stepped to the desk, and signed the two papers with a steady 
hand. 

“ Well,” he said, flinging the pen into a corner of the room, 
“ now I am no longer Emperor of France, but at the same 
time no longer a prisoner at Fontainebleau. At Elba I shall 
be free, at least; I shall be surrounded by the brave soldiers 
of my Old Guard ; I shall see again my wife and my son. 
That is to say,” he gloomily murmured to himself, “if her 

♦Meneval, “MSmoires,” etc., vol. ii., p. 80, 


502 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


father permits them to rejoin me; for without his permission 
she will not come. Louisa is a princess of Austria, and has, 
therefore, been brought up in obedience. Oh, how I longed 
for the consolation of her presence ! She ought not to have 
left me alone in these days!” His lips murmured softly, 
“Josephine would not have done so! She would have gone 
with me into exile!” He sat a long time absorbed in his re- 
flections, which whispered to him of the past, and of Josephine. 
He felt that they moved him too deeply, and, with an im- 
petuous gesture, he jumped up, and, proudly throwing back 
his head, exclaimed: “Well, then, I have submitted to my 
fate, and shall bear it manfully. We shall go to Elba, then! 
You will accompany me, my friends, and I shall not be alone? 
Maret and Berthier, you will not leave me, I hope?” 

“Sire, I would follow your majesty to the end of the 
world!” said Maret, tenderly. 

“ I know of no more glorious destiny than to remain your 
majesty’s faithful servant,” exclaimed Berthier, emphatically. 
“ I thank you for permitting me to go with you to Elba, 
and I joyfully accept this permission; but as I have to make 
some necessary preparations, I request two days’ leave of ab- 
sence of your majesty.” 

While Berthier was speaking, the emperor contemplated 
him with painful astonishment; now he quickly came near 
him, and, laying his hand on his shoulder, he fixed his keen 
eyes on him, as if he wished to read his most secret thoughts. 
“Berthier,” he said, in a gentle, imploring voice, “you see 
how much I have need of consultation; how necessary it is 
for me to have true friends about me. You will, therefore, 
return to-morrow, will you not?” 

“Sire, certainly,” faltered Berthier. 

Napoleon’s eyes still rested on the pale, confused face of 
the prince. “Berthier,” he said, after a pause, if you wish 
to leave me, tell me so frankly and sincerely.” 

“ I leave you !” exclaimed Berthier. “ Your majesty knows 
well that I am devoted to you with immovable fidelity — that 
my heart can never forget you, and that I shall always be 
your obedient servant.” 

“ Words, words !” said Napoleon, shaking his head. “ Well, 
then, it is your will : go, therefore, to Paris. Attend to the 
affairs which you have more at heart than my wishes. Go, 
and — if you can, come back soon!” 

Berthier wished to grasp the emperor’s hand and press it 


A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 


503 


to his lips, but he hastily withdrew it, and, lifting it up, 
pointed with an imperious glance at the door. Berthier 
bowed, and, walking backward, approached the door with 
bent head, and departed. The emperor looked after him long 
and gloomily; then he slowly turned his head toward the 
Duke de Bassano. “Maret,” he said, slowly, “ Berthier will 
not come back.” 

“ What, sire !” exclaimed Maret, in dismay. “ Your majesty 
believes — ” 

“ I know it,” said Napoleon, slowy, “ Berthier will not come 
back!” He threw himself into an easy-chair, at times heav- 
ing a sigh, but without uttering a single complaint; and thus 
he sat all day. From time to time the few faithful men 
who had remained with him dared to speak, but the emperor, 
starting from his meditations, only stared at them, and then 
slowly dropped his head again on his breast. At dinner-time 
Maret endeavored to induce him to go to the table; but he 
only responded by indignantly shaking his head, and waving 
him toward the door. 

Evening had come, and the emperor still sat alone in his 
cabinet, motionless and sad. He did not hear the door be- 
hind him softly open; he did not see a dark, veiled female 
form that had slowly entered, and now, as if overwhelmed by 
grief, leaned against the wall. Her veil prevented her, per- 
haps, from seeing Napoleon; she threw it back, and now 
Josephine’s pale, quivering face was seen. She fixed her eyes 
on him with an expression of boundless tenderness, and then 
lifted them to heaven with an imploring air, softly raising 
her arms, and her lips moving in inaudible prayer. 

The emperor did not yet notice her. Josephine stepped 
noiselessly across the carpet, and laid her hand gently on his 
head. “Napoleon,” she whispered, “Napoleon!” 

He uttered a cry and jumped up. “Josephine,” he ex- 
claimed, “my Josephine! Oh, now I am no longer alone!” 
He clasped her with impassioned tenderness in his arms; he 
kissed her quivering lips, and held her streaming face be- 
tween his hands, gazing at it with the tender expression of a 
lover. Encircling her with his arms, and no longer able to 
restrain his heart, he laid his head on her shoulder, and wept 
bitterly. Recovering, his face resumed its inscrutable ex- 
pression. “Josephine,” he said, “ I have wrung many tears 
from you, but Fate has avenged you; I have wept, too; and 
what is worse than tears is that which is gnawing at my heart. 


504 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


I thank you, Josephine, for coming to me. All have de- 
serted me!" 

“I know it, Napoleon," whispered Josephine, smiling amid 
tears, “ and that is why I am here. You will not go all alone 
to Elba; I shall go with you. No, Bonaparte, no! do not 
shake your head; do not reject me! I have a right to ac- 
company you ; for, whatever men may say, I was your wife, 
and am your wife, and what God has joined together no man 
can sunder. My soul is one with yours. I love you to-day 
as tenderly as I did on the day when I stood with you before 
the altar and plighted my fidelity to you ; I love you now even 
more intensely, for you are unfortunate, and have need of my 
love. Bid me, therefore, not go any more. She is not here, 
and her place by your side, which she has deserted, belongs to 
me!" 

“No,” said Napoleon, gravely, “ let her absence remind her 
of her duty. I will not give ray son’s mother a pretext for 
staying away from me; she shall not say that she cannot re- 
join me because I have yielded to another woman the place 
that belongs to her. No, Josephine, she must not be able to 
reproach me. I thank you for coming, but you have come to 
take leave of me. I have seen you — your faithful love has 
been a balm to my heart. Now, farewell!" 

“ Then, you bid me go already?" cried Josephine, reproach- 
fully; “oh, Bonaparte, let me stay here at least till your 
departure. No one will betray to her that I am here." 

“It would remain no secret, Josephine, and it would be 
used to excuse her, and to accuse me. Go, then, and take 
with you the consciousness that you have afforded me the last 
joy of my life." 

“ Oh, Bonaparte, you break my heart!" murmured Jose- 
phine, leaning her head on his shoulder. “ I cannot leave 
you, I cannot bear to see you go alone into exile." 

“ Fate has decreed it, and so has the evil star that arose 
upon my path when I left you, Josephine! Let this be my 
farewell. Now, go!" 

“No, Bonaparte," she cried, passionately; “tell me not to 
go if you do not wish me to die! Your misfortunes have 
pierced my heart. My only hope of life is by your side, for 
sorrow at the remembrance of your misfortunes will kill me." 

A strange smile played around the emperor’s lips. “ I do 
not pity those who die," he said; “death is a kind friend, 
and pray God that He may soon send this friend to me!" He 


A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 


505 


\ 

kissed her forehead and conducted her gently to the door. 
“Go, my Josephine,” he said; “this is the last sacrifice 
which I shall ask of yon!” 

“ I go!” she sighed. “Farewell, Bonaparte, farewell!” 
She fixed on him a look full of love and grief. “We shall 
never meet again!” 

“Yes,” he said, slowly and solemnly, lifting his hand to- 
ward heaven, “we shall meet again!” 

“I shall await you there!” she said, with an expression of 
intense love and sorrow. 

The door closed; Napoleon was again alone; he stood in 
the middle of the room, as if still beholding her pale, smiling 
face, and hearing her sweet voice. “ She will await me 
there!” he murmured. “But why should she await me? 
Why should she die, and I live? And why must I live?” he 
asked, in a loud, and almost joyful tone. “ Why shall I suffer 
these mean, cowardly creatures, who formerly lay in the dust 
before me, now to enjoy their triumph? Why must I live?” 
lie sank into his chair, thinking of the disgrace soon to be 
brought upon him, remembering that each of the allied sov- 
ereigns would send an envoy to Fontainebleau, and that he 
w r as to be transported to Elba — escorted, like a caged lion, by 
Russian, Prussian, and Austrian commissioners ! His heart 
for a moment grew strong in his anguish. He jumped up, 
rushed to his desk, pulled out the drawers, and opened a secret 
compartment. There lay a small black silken bag. Taking 
it out, he cut it open, and drew a package from it. “ Ha!” he 
exclaimed, joyfully, “ now I have the kind friend that will de- 
liver me! They want to drag me through the country as a 
prisoner! But thou, blessed poison, wilt release me!” 

In the night of the 13th of April, Constant, Napoleon’s 
valet de chambre, was awakened by an extraordinary groaning 
proceeding from Napoleon’s bedroom, whither Constant hast- 
ened. Yes, it was the emperor who was suffering. His face 
was deadly pale ; his limbs were quivering ; a paper lay on 
the floor in front of him ; on the table by his side stood a 
glass, in which were still seen some drops of a whitish color. 
Constant rushed toward him. He gazed at his servant with 
fixed looks, and murmured, “ I suffer dreadfully ! Fire is 
consuming my bowels; but it does not kill me!” 

Uttering a cry, and hastening from the room, Constant 
went for the domestic surgeon, Dr. Ivan, Maret, and Caulain- 
court. They appeared in the utmost consternation, and sur- 
33 


506 


NAPOLEON AND BLUCHER. 


rounded the easy-chair on which the emperor still sat. Dr. 
Ivan felt his forehead, which was covered with clammy per- 
spiration; and his pulse was feeble and sluggish, but still 
throbbing. He recognized his physician, and his livid lips 
murmured almost inaudibly, “Ivan, I have taken poison, 
that which you gave me one day in Russia; but it has lost its 
efficacy! It does not kill, while it causes me excruciating 
pain.” 

Ivan went weeping out of the room to prepare a remedy. 

Napoleon turned his eyes with an expression of agony toward 
Maret and Caulaincourt, who were kneeling before him. 
“My friends,” he said, “I sought death! But you see God 
did not will it! He commands me to live and suffer.” * 

On the morning after this night of terror, the emperor rose 
from his couch, and his face, which for the last few days had 
been so gloomy, assumed now a serene expression. “ Provi- 
dence has spared me for other purposes,” he murmured to 
himself. “Well, then, I shall live! To the living belongs 
the future!”! 

A week afterward, on the 20th of April, Napoleon left Fon- 
tainebleau for Elba. In the court-yard of the palace the Old 
Guard was drawn up in the splendor of their arms, with their 
eagles and banners. Near the ranks of the soldiers, in front 
of the main portal, stood Bonaparte’s travelling-carriage, and 
beside it the foreign commissioners. Before setting out, he 
wished to take leave of his faithful soldiers. Advancing into 
the midst of the Old Guard, he addressed them in a firm 
voice: “ Soldiers of my Old Guard, I bid you adieu ! During 
twenty years I have ever found you in the path of honor. In 
the last days, as in those of our prosperity, you have never 
ceased to be models of bravery and fidelity. With such men 
as you our cause could never have been lost; but the war 
would never end; it would have become a civil war, and 
France must daily have been more unhappy. I have, there- 
fore, sacrificed all our interests to those of our country: I 
depart ; but you remain to serve France. Her happiness was 
my only thought ; it will always be the object of my fervent 
wishes. Lament not my destiny: if I have consented to sur- 
vive myself, it was because I might contribute to your glory. 
Adieu, my children ! I would I could press you all to my 
heart; but I will, at least, press your eagle!” At these words, 


* Constant’s “ M6moires, ” vol. vi., p. 88. Fain, “ Manuscrit.” 
fBausset’s “M6moires,” vol. ii., p. 244. 


A SOUL IN PURGATORY. 


507 


General Petit advanced with the eagle; Napoleon received the 
general in his arms, and, kissing the standard, he added: “ I 
cannot embrace you all, but I do so in the person of your 
general! Adieu, once again, my old companions!” 

The veteran soldiers had no reply hut tears and sobs, and, 
stretching out their hands toward Napoleon, they implored 
him to stay. But the carriage rolled rapidly across the 
court-yard, hearing into exile, or at best to the sovereignty of 
an insignificant island, a man who, in aiming at the empire 
of the world, had subdued almost all the kingdoms of Europe. 


THE END. 















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